


Harmony

by AlexG



Series: Quinn Fabray: Companion [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Glee
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexG/pseuds/AlexG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and the TARDIS end up stuck in Lima, unable to re-enter the Time Vortex. Stuck on the slow path, he tries to figure out what is happening, posing as McKinley's janitor by night, and co-director of the Glee Club by day. I'm re-postiong the series which started on FF.net. New stories won't all be posted in the course of a day, sadly ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Andy Malone hadn't made the best decisions in his life, as he would be the first to admit. He made no attempts to beat around the bush; night janitor at a high school in Lima, Ohio wasn't the height of his career aspiration but it was as far as his limited education and lack of skills would take him. Hitchhiking the entire width of the United States and then again from Canada to Mexico right out of high school had seemed like a great idea and a good way to transition into an eventual career as a writer. But nobody was interested in the stories of an aimless wanderer, and nobody was willing to hire an applicant whose main qualification was standing on street corners or dirt roads with his thumb sticking out. Well, at least no place you could afford a Mercedes on. But at least he had the job here at McKinley, and that at least was something.

He was starting another evening shift, exactly the way they always started. Another ordinary, dull night in Ohio, whiled away mopping, sweeping, and sanitizing. Sometimes it was easy to think of himself as a failure. But other times he had a sense that he was just waiting for something greater, grander, and more important. But perhaps those were just the crazy dreams of a man who felt he hadn't made a mark on the world around him.

He started mopping around the front entrance to the school. An immaculate banker's box sat outside Emma Pillsbury's office, tied perfectly with twine and labeled in impossibly neat writing, "Pamphlets - Dealing with Pet Suicide." Attached was a note:

_Andy,_

_Would you be a dear and store these in the basement for me? I'd do it myself but I'm still recovering from the Spider Incident of 2009._

_-Emma_

He smiled. It wasn't really in his job description to take care of these things for the teachers and staff, but Emma was always kind to him despite his lowly position, and he was highly appreciative of that. Plus it was just a small box; it wouldn't take that much time out of his life.

He never, ever went to the basement. It was basically just storage space, after all; there wasn't much call to clean up down here. It was dark, musty, and the whole place smelt of decayed fabrics and mildewed carpeting swatches. Amid all the boxes and rolls of old carpet were various decorative pieces and odds and ends that nobody wanted to throw away; half of Prospero's boat from the drama club's rendition of The Tempest, a Santa in his sleigh waiting to be set up next to the Star of David for the Holidays of the World display, a large dragon costume for Chinese New Year, and half of the statue of Sue Sylvester that Sue herself had commissioned before Figgins told her that was an inappropriate use of the school's budget.

But tonight there was also something new - sounds coming from behind the locked set of double doors across from the stairs. Whatever it was, it was loud, and it sounded vague lyrical. "niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie. niiiiiiiiiiiiiiie." It was the same sound over and over again with a second of silence between each repetition. Listening more closely, he could hear the pitch waver ever so slightly each time.

He set the box down, then knocked on the door. "Hello?" instantly, the whole place was silent. He knocked again. "I heard you a moment ago," he said. "There's no use hiding."

"A pity," a voice said. It was deep, menacing, and it had a hint of mechanization behind it. He heard movement, and turned around slowly to see what it was. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary there. That is, not until the dragon moved its head to stare directly at him. He tried to say something but his breath caught in his throat. The voice was coming from the dragon.

"State tonal range," it said.

"Sorry, I... What?" he said.

"Uncooperative. Manual identification."

The dragon reared up and started to crawl on metal spindly legs. It really shouldn't have had those. The thing that had up until recently been a harmless decoration sat up like a cobra. Andy put his hands up in an attempt at a peaceful gesture. The thing raised one spindly little arm, pointed it at his face, and reared back. He shut his eyes and then he felt it hit him... right in the shoulder. "Aaaaaaauuuuuugh!" he said, looking down at the tiny puncture then back at the dragon. "That _stings_!" he said.

"Unusable," the dragon said, and retreated back to its place in one of the boxes.

"That's it?"

"That's it," a deeper voice said from behind the door. "We don't need that frequency."

"Uhhhhh..." he said as the door opened.

"Now all we need is dinner."

And Andy was pulled in through the door. It closed behind him with a definitive sounding slam, but it didn't quite drown out his second, much louder scream. A tragedy, really, because there was nobody there to hear it.

DAVID TENNANT

DIANA AGRON

DOCTOR WHO

HARMONY

The Doctor took off the bowtie from around his neck where it had hung limply for the past few hours, long ago untied and dissheveled along with the rest of his tuxedo. Only the white trainers he always wore were relatively untouched. He threw the tie on the console, brushed the last of the Titanic salvage's ballast from his hair and coat, and hung it on the hat rack by the TARDIS' front door. He leaned against the console, trying to decide where to go next. Somewhere simple, somewhere safe, where he wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.

_But if you could choose, Doctor, if you could decide who lives and who dies, then that would make you a monster._

Mr. Copper's words echoed in his mind. As he was starting to think more and more often, maybe a Time Lord really did live too long, because it was getting harder and harder to accept that he couldn't be responsible for everyone. He couldn't depose every power-hungry leader, or save every planet from every threat that came along. He couldn't protect every innocent life... but he was starting to believe that he could. That he should be able to.

The truth was that the Doctor's life was a series of painful losses, with him always sacrificing the people and things he loved because of the evil (or just the foolishness) of others. Gallifrey, his home planet... An entire world locked away, his home gone forever because of Rassilon's desire to save his people at the expense of the universe. And then there had been Rose. Especially Rose... two universes saved from Daleks, Cybermen, and total collapse, all because of the foolish pride and ambition of the Torchwood Institute. At least Martha had been smart. Martha got out while she still could. But he couldn't give in to these feelings. He had to keep fighting, had to keep believing.

He stopped and looked around the console room, a very familiar melody suddenly running through his mind. He was about to play it through the TARDIS' sound system, when he thought better of it. Some things just had to be experienced live.


	2. Chapter 2

"Finn, you heard Mr. Schue! We _have_ to get this right!"

"I know, Rachel, but this'll be the tenth time today! I've still got homework, and I really need to start lookin' for a job. Quinn..."

"I know," Rachel said, her tone softening. "But we can't let coach Sylvester drive a wedge between us either. Splitting the team like she did is obviously a power play, but unless we get 'Sue's Kids' to realize it then we're not going to have enough members to compete at sectionals." Finn looked drained by her argument. "Just once more," she said. "Please?" she added, almost as an afterthouht.

He sighed, bowed his head, and said, "Fine, once more. Once!"

Rachel nodded her agreement.

* * *

"1980!" the Doctor exclaimed as he bounded out of the TARDIS. "London, England, on..." he trailed off as he looked around himself at the people walking along across the street. People with short hair and muted colors on their clothes. "...the 22nd of September. Nice day..." Young people talking on mobile phones in American accents. "...bit of rain in the afternoon. Aaugh!" He did a half spin as he uttered his guttural sound of frustration, glaring at the doors of the Police Box. Once again, she was being uncooperative. He was debating whether or not he should just turn around and leave, give it another go tomorrow, when he heard something in the distance. Someone was singing. No, two people were singing.

No. Two people were singing _fantastically_.

Granted, it wasn't the song he was looking for, but it was good. No musical accompaniment, just two voices mingling together. He was drawn in, and so he locked the TARDIS and started following the sound. The TARDIS had parked itself under the bleachers of a football field - American Football, the Doctor noticed - nicely out of sight to most everyone. Fantastic.

Now in search if the haunting melody, the Doctor set off at a brisk pace, noticing the license plates and bumper stickers on the cars as he went. Ohio. Lima, Ohio. So nothing like London, then, really. But at least he was going to be treated to a nice open air concert. He came around a corner and found the source of the music; two high school students walking along the perimeter of the school, singing. They were marvelous; extremely talented despite their young ages. But what made him stop and watch, staring with his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, was the reaction of the rest of he crowd. To be more specific, there wasn't one. People walked past them to the left and right, and sometimes even between the two of them, midway through a line, seemingly without a care in the world... like this was a completely normal circumstance. It was strange... not completely unheard of, but strange. He had a tickling sensation in the back of his brain; curiosity was starting to get the better of him. Would it really hurt to stay and investigate?

No! No, no, no no no no no. This was trouble. This was how it always started and he wasn't going to fall into that trap. Not this time, not again. He was going to avoid trouble at all costs. Besides, he had a concert to go to. It was a short walk back to the TARDIS, and as soon as he got there he started flicking switches and pulling levers. The TARDIS entirely failed to make a groaning screeching sound and fade away into nothingness. Instead it made an entirely different, entirely more distressing grinding sound as the time rotor screeched to a halt (more like a car's transmission going out than the gentle protestations of worn machinery) and the cloister bell began to ring.

"Oh, not good, not good!" the Doctor yelled as he twirled about the console, twisting more knobs and dials and reading readouts. "No, no, come on!" But the scanner reported just how bleak it really was. For some reason the TARDIS wasn't able to break through into the time vortex. And that meant that it - and the Doctor along with it - was stuck. "Sandbarred," he said, but nobody was listening. Well, that made the decision easy, then. Back to the trouble at hand. Because strange thing happening out there in the world could be ignored. Strange things happening to his TARDIS could be ignored, too. Well, they often were, to be fair... the TARDIS acted up even when everything was fine. Not too bad for a vessel with 900 years on the clock and minus five of its pilots, but still unpredictable from time to time, to be sure. But both of them in one place, in an inconspicuously small town where nobody would ever think to look for anything out of the ordinary? That was basically a recipe for peculiarity and disaster. He had to get closer, had to find himself an in to that school, where nobody gave you a second glance if you belted out a powerful duet as you passed through the mass of humanity. But what? Substitute teacher? Worked on the Krillitanes, sure, but that school got blown up. Acceptable loss, perhaps, but he didn't want to make a habit of it. Then the next time he'd been a teacher, most of the staff were possessed by aliens and killed. Also not a great outcome. Maybe he needed to try something a little less conspicuous.

* * *

"I'm a very busy man! If you're not going to take this seriously, then this interview is over!" Principal Figgins said to the strange man sitting across the desk from him. "It's very clear that you're lying to me, Mr..."

"Smith. John Smith," the Doctor said, flashing his best and most winning smile. "And I've nothing to lie about. I'm just a man looking for a job. Saw your posting looking for a night janitor and I thought, well..."

"Mr. Smith, I have seen six candidates for this position. They barely speak English, let alone interview in an expensive pinstripe suit. If this is a joke then I ask that you please stop wasting my time!"

The Doctor sighed and pulled the psychic paper from his pocket. "You're a clever man, Principal Figgins," he said. "Nobody else has sussed me out so quickly. The truth is, John Smith is just a pseudonym. Here are my real credentials," he said, and he handed over the wallet with the blank piece of paper.

Figgins' eyes widened immediately. "Chancellor of The Department of Socioeconomic Studies at Oxford," Figgins read.

"Yeeeeeep," the Doctor said. "That's me."

"And you're writing a book on the social strata in America? You want to use this school for free research?"

"It'd be good publicity for the school," the Doctor offered. Figgins frowned. "And I'd do the work for free," he continued.

"Be to the school by 7:30. Don't wear that suit."

With another successful ruse under his belt, the Doctor strode out of the school towards the TARDIS. He noticed a couple of the students in the hall in particular; the brunette who'd been singing before was yelling at a boy with frizzy, poofy hair, rather reminiscent of his own four or five lives ago. "How could you do that? Do you have any idea how much pain you caused by running that story?" And over to his right, a blonde girl in a cheerleader's uniform was sobbing into the shoulder of the boy who'd been the other half of the duet. He rubbed her back and told her it would be alright as he stared off into the distance, his face showing his dazed bewilderment. He considered patting the girl on the shoulder as he passed, but thought better of it. Right now he had planning to do.

After a quick stop off at the TARDIS to change his clothes to something more janitor-like, the Doctor made his way back to the school to find a place to park the police box inside, out of the way. If something was amiss, then he wanted his ship close by where he could find it, even if it wouldn't be going anywhere. He found a locked broom closet on the first floor, and since he had the keys and a sonic screwdriver, he was confident that he could create a situation where nobody would stumble upon it accidentally.

Standing outside the auditorium, he was again struck by the music he heard wafting from inside.

_You're not alone_

_Together we stand_

_I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand_

_When it gets cold_

_And it feels like the end_

_There's no place to go_

_You know I won't give in_

_No I won't give in_

They were amazingly talented, he had to give them that. But that was the problem, really. Not only was there that much talent, and this nice of an auditorium on the Ohio school board budget, but nobody in the school seemed to have noticed how... musical everything was. Oh sure, the odd football player splashed the odd person with a cold frozen drink every now and again, but someone could burst into song at a moment's notice and nobody took any notice. There was something odd about it, and the Doctor was never one to let an odd thing go.

Footsteps approached him from behind and he turned to see Figgins approach him. "John, you're early. Very nice."

"Yes, that's me," he said. "Always where I need to be, right when I need to be there." Figgins might have made a comment about how cryptic (not to mention slightly arrogant) that comment was but the Doctor swept in with a new line of conversation before he had the chance. "Who're they? They're very good."

"The McKinley High New Directions. Will Schuester's glee club."

"Ooh, glee club! I love glee! So... gleeful! Er... so when you say glee, you mean the feeling, or..."

"The competitive showchoir circuit. Unfortunately the club is not doing so well. They have to place at regionals or I'll be forced to give their funding back to Sue Sylvester, the cheerleading coach."

"Yeah, but... who wouldn't vote for these kids, right? So talented. It really is quite amazing, isn't it?" the Doctor prodded, gauging Figgins reaction.

"Amazing, yes, but the other students still have not accepted the glee kids socially. They're still at the bottom of the ladder."

"Really?" the Doctor said. "Do you think William would like a hand?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Another co-director? Principal Figgins, I-"

"I understand your concerns William. But I'm not giving you another Sue here. Mr. Smith is studying social stratification in America, so he's taken a genuine interest in your glee club. But more than that he has an extensive musical knowledge and he's willing to do the work for free!"

Schuester wavered. "Well..."

"You can't tell me you couldn't use a hand, William. And more importantly an ally."

"Alright, I'll meet him," Will said. "But no promises! The last thing I need is another power play."

"It's not just your choice William. Take him to the next practice with you. Let the kids decide."

* * *

"Sometimes things are so different they don't feel llike they go together. But the big difference between them is what makes them great. Like... chocolate and bacon."

"Or glee club and football," Finn chimed in as Quinn wiped high fructose corn syrup from his lashes.

"Time and Space," a voice from the back of the room said, and everyone turned to look at the owner. "Couldn't seem more opposed to each other until Albert Einstein realizes they're inexorably intertwined as spacetime."

"Spacetime's on the sci-fi channel, right?" Brittany asked Santana.

"Guys, allow me to introduce Dr. John Smith," Will said. "He's going to be observing for a while."

"Friends just call me The Doctor," he said.

"Now this song is my personal favorite," Will said, "and your homework this week is to find an unexpected mashup to go with it. Artie, try to follow along on the bass. Finn, take us through it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schuester, I got cornsyrup in my eye."

"Ok, uh, Puck. How about it?"

"I don't really groove on young MC."

"Doc?"

"Uh, no. No, I don't... no. I'm more of a... Glenn Miller sort of dancer," the Doctor said, snapping his fingers and swinging his arms like he'd once done with Rose and Jack. The cheerleaders rolled their eyes at him.

"Okay. I guess I'll just have to show these guys how it's done."

As Will took the opportunity to dance with the rest of the club, the Doctor walked around the choir room, examining it for anything out of the ordinary. A visual inspection didn't turn up anything; he'd have to come back with the sonic screwdriver later tonight. There had to be some explanation, some reason why everyone took music so seriously around here. Not that he didn't love a good song as much as the next guy, but everyone in this school had taken it well beyond obsession. Something was happening and he was going to find out what it was.

"Doc?" He turned back around. The song had ended, and from the way everyone was staring at him it seemed likely that they'd been calling for a minute as well.

"Yes, sorry," he said, flashing a grin and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Where were we?"

"I thought you might like to introduce yourself a bit more."

"Right, of course. I'm Dr. John Smith, Chancellor of... uh... at... Y'know what, what do you care? Point is, I'm a sociologist studying class structures in society."

"Forward," Brittany said, and everyone looked at her.

"What? Sorry?" the Doctor said.

"Forward. We always face forward, towards the blackboard. How are classes structured in England?"

The Doctor opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, thought about it a moment, and then just barreled on as if she hadn't spoken.

"'course, I know a thing or two about music as well, and I know you're all due to go to sectionals in, what is it? Four weeks? Five? And I just thought… well, not that Mr. Schuester here isn't doing a fantastic job, but a little outside opinion never hurt anyone."

"And you've had experience with this kind of performance before?" Rachel asked.

Experience? Had he had experience? When the Beatles had appeared on Ed Sullivan, he'd repaired a boom mic with a microfilament of polycarbide wire and a thumb tack. When Janis Joplin performed at the Avalon Ballroom in San Francisco on the 4th of June 1966, he'd taken her photograph. She said it was lovely and gave him a coat in return. He once sang backup with Peter Noonan's Herman's Hermits when the secondary vocalist was eaten by a swarm of carnivorous birds from another world. And once he'd stepped in an conducted the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at Christmas when the director had a bad case of the flu. "Oh, you know, I dabble. This and that," he said.

"Now, guys, I know we had a bit of a rough run with Coach Sylvester last week…" Will said.

"You mean when she tried to destroy us from the inside out," Mercedes said.

"And ruined my life…" Quinn muttered

"…but we're the stronger for it," Will finished. "Now we know we're all in it together, just us against the world, but we can make it if we're willing to lean on each other. And I think, with his training, the Doctor might be able to help. So, what do we think? Is he in?"

"You a therapist?" Puck asked.

"Well, no, not as such…"

"'cause I don't want any shrink messin' around with my head," he said, stroking his Mohawk. "I like it how it is."

"A shrink could hardly make your brainspace any smaller, Puckerman," Santana shot back.

"Alright, enough," Will said. "Let's put it to the vote." And the Doctor couldn't help but smile, because the hands all went up unanimously. Some a bit reluctantly, but they went up nonetheless. They were a good, open-minded group. That was a very, very good thing in his book.

* * *

After that period was over, he was at least able to go back to the TARDIS for a few hours before it was time to start cleaning. But of course he had investigations to do... there was hardly going to be time to do everything he needed to and still get the school spic and span. Fortuitously enough, though, he had a solution.

He was just about to unlock the broom closet where he'd moved the TARDIS the night before when he heard a splooshing sound behind him, intermingled with a shriek. He turned to see Rachel Berry trying to wipe cherry slush from her eyes.

"You alright?" he called out, walking over to her with a handkerchief.

"You get used to it," she said, accepting the square of fabric and dabbing at her face with it. "Some people are just jealous of raw talent like mine."

"What, a fellow glee clubber did this?"

"No, a couple knuckle draggers from the hockey and football teams did it. Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams."

"Azimio Adams? Oh, you're kidding me!" The Doctor had a wan smile. "It's like memory lane."

"You know his family?"

"Something like that," the Doctor replied, all mirth suddenly gone. Six lifetimes ago, with a ridiculous scarf and Sarah Jane Smith by his side, he'd had to stop a man from infecting the water supply of hundreds of small towns to create business for his pharmaceutical company. That was in 2042. He'd have to see him to be sure, but it could very well be the same man. He shook his head - back to reality. "So, you think jealous, hm? But, uh, riddle me this... why would a football player and a hockey player be jealous of a great singer like you?"

Rachel opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. She seemed genuinely puzzled by the question. After a moment she became flustered and said, "I need to wash this slushie off before it dries on," and excused herself.

Oh yeah, something was definitely wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

The automated cleanliness drones of Taciburt had done their part admirably for years on that planet, each one ensuring the home in which it's owners lived was up to snuff. But when the inhabitants of the world evolved into pure thought and, therefore, stopped making messes, the drones found themselves with a lot more time on their hands.

When The Doctor had found the planet, the entire surface had been broken down over millennia of cleaning, polishing, scrubbing, and shining... they had turned the entire planet into mirror polished glass to a depth of three meters. It seemed cruel to leave them all with nothing to do and no purpose, so he'd given them something to do, allowing them to live in a room in the TARDIS where entropy progressed at a few thousand times normal. Now they had a larger playground, for a time anyway. Just so long as each spiderlike drone was back in the TARDIS by midnight everything would be fine.

Several hours of scanning later, he had to admit that the first night hadn't revealed a thing. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the choir room, the auditorium, the corridors, nothing. He may as well have mopped the whole school by hand for all the good his investigations had done. But the TARDIS still refused to fly, and that confirmed sufficiently that something was amiss. If something was affecting the time vortex, then he'd just have to build a detector of some kind and, perhaps, wait until the effect grew sufficiently strong. He had no idea how long that might take.

He recalled the drones and they filed back into the TARDIS, moving back to the entropy room to wait for the next scrubbing adventure. The last unit, the command processing unit that coordinated all the rest, produced a printed report for the Doctor before it also scuttled away.

It was mostly standard stuff - how long each drone had been in operation, area covered in terms of square inches, and how much cleaning solution was left in their reservoirs. But there was also something a bit strange... a little bit of some unidentified compound that they'd picked up. And it'd been found right where he'd talked with Rachel earlier that day. That wasn't very likely to be coincidental at all.

As soon as the morning came around he'd have to get himself a sample.

"Being popular just means you can have it all. Oh, hey guys!" Finn said as he rounded a corner with Quinn.

Five football players faced them with cups in their hands. "Ya thirsty?" asked one particularly ghoulish one.

"Sure! Thanks!" Finn replied, and in response a tidal wave of purple slush enveloped them both.

"Oh, you think that's bad? Just imagine what's gonna happen if you don't show up to practice on Thursday, and quit that little glee club for good. Bros before hi-hos, man. Don't forget that." The 10 cup-wielding buffoons made for the exit, but the Doctor was waiting for them, somehow seeming to take up the entire doorway despite his lanky stature.

"Oy! Someone's gotta clear those up!" he said. He didn't mention that it would be a nonsentient robot after hours.

"What're you, a substitute teacher?"

"I'm the Doctor, and just now you're not worth my time. But know this, Azimio Adams. I'm watching you. And one day, I'm coming for you." Then he squeezed past the line of football players; he'd said his piece and there was nothing left but to move on. Azimio didn't look frightened, per se, but he was certainly taken aback. Of course, it wasn't true; this wasn't the Azimio Adams the Doctor had met before after all... not unless he was going to regenerate into a lanky ginge with a beard and a southern accent, but why waste a good intimidating speech when he'd worked so long on it?

The Doctor strode up to Finn and Quinn, whose hair and clothes were still sopping with grape slush. "You alright?"

"Yeah, Mr... sorry, professor... sorry, Dr. Smith."

He softened into a smile. "Just Doctor, please, I insist." He nodded over his shoulder at the retreating football players. "They do that often?"

"It's common but... new for us," Quinn told him.

"Fallen a few rungs on the social ladder have we?"

"I will if I don't choose football over glee club on Thursday," Finn said. "And Quinn..." he looked at the cheerleader, silently asking permission.

"Everyone else knows. He may as well know too."

Finn swallowed. "Quinn's pregnant," he said.

The Doctor's face lit up. "Are you indeed? Oh, congratulations!" Finn and Quinn looked at one another, as if to verify that this was indeed abnormal. "What? You look as if I'm the first person who's said that." Quinn flashed a weak smile. "Oh, wait, I am the first one, aren't I?" the Doctor asked.

"It's just that nobody really congratulates teens on an unwed, unplanned pregnancy," she said.

"Aw, nonsense!" he said, sweeping one of them into each arm for a hug. "There are some things in the universe that are always, always good things, no matter what the circumstances, and in my book this is one of them," he said.

Finn smiled, not sure how to react. "Thanks, Doctor," he said.

Quinn was taken aback, however. Maybe she was crazy, but she could have sworn that at the point at which his cheek had touched hers, it was cold. Startlingly cold, in fact. She shook her head... it must just have been the slushie still clinging to her hair.

Neither of them noticed the Doctor sweeping a little bit of the purple slush into a test tube and palming it before he pulled away.

"Two samples, same flavor... what's different about you?" the Doctor asked frustratedly. He had two vials of the slushie drinks; one of them fresh from the cafeteria, and one that he'd pulled from Finn and Quinn's hair. The one from the cafeteria was normal, showing nothing out of the ordinary. But the one he'd gotten from the site of the driveby slushing was a plethora of chemicals whose purpose wasn't even clear to the Time Lord. And if it wasn't clear to him, then it wasn't likely the football players had cooked it up themselves to dose their enemies with. What the hell was this stuff for anyway?

One single peal from the cloister bell made him look up. Time to clean already? He opened the TARDIS door, then the broom closet door, and was about to let the drones go free when he heard faint music from the choir room. Swing music in fact. Maybe it was his lucky day, musically speaking.

But by the time he reached the choir room, the party was clearly over. He passed the cheerleading coach on her way out as he entered. "Hey buddy," she said, but nothing more.

When he entered, Will was sitting alone on one of the chairs, staring into the distance.

"Evening Will," he said.

Will seemed oblivious for a moment, then said, "Dr. Smith. Sorry, I didn't see you."

"Just Doctor," he replied softly. "Everything alright?"

"Sue just told me that Ken's making the football players choose between glee and the team. And it doesn't seem likely that they'll choose glee."

"What's behind that?"

"I don't know. I might have let on that I didn't like the song he picked for the wedding... I don't know. It's just, I thought we were friends, you know? And then he goes and does this..."

They sat in silence a few moments, then the Doctor replied, "I had a friend betray me once too. We were inseperable, until one day we weren't anymore. Blink of an eye, it seemed like."

"What was his name?"

"The Mas... Saxon. Harold Saxon."

"What? The Prime Minister of Great Britain?"

"No, no. Just coincidence. No, this was just an old school chum of mine."

"If the football players leave, we won't have enough people for sectionals," Will said. "Sue will have won, just as she stopped trying."

"Maybe they'll surprise you," the Doctor said. Will laughed derisively. "No, no, I mean it!" the Doctor said. "There's something about you, William. Something that these young people respond to. And, yeah, okay, glee club might be on the bottom of the social ladder, but it's the most caring and interconnected group at the whole school it seems. Besides, music somehow seems to bring out the best in people."

Will smiled. "By its very definition, Glee is about opening yourself up to joy," he said. The Doctor looked puzzled. "It's a quote from Mrs. Adler. She was the glee coach when I was a student here. She's the one who taught me how to really enjoy glee. I learned to love singing from her."

"She must have been a delight."

Will shook his head vigorously and scoffed. "Not at the start she wasn't. She started the club with her own set agenda. Pushed songs we hated on us, drove us to the brink of insanity demanding better and better of us. And then one day, she changed. It was like night and day. Suddenly you could see that it wasn't just about results. She was enjoying what she was doing. I feel like my career here is in tribute to her somehow."

"Sounds like an amazing woman."

"She was at that." He was silent a moment, then he stood up. "Speaking of amazing women, I'd better get home to Terri." He was in the hall when he turned back. "Thanks for listening, Doctor."

"My pleasure. What're you gonna do about Ken?"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow. Maybe I can stop the problems before they start."

"Good luck." Will smiled and thanked him. "It never quite works out that way though," he said, almost to himself. "Mind you, maybe a little nudge would be in order... for Finn and the other players, I mean," he said.

Will shook his head. "I want them to make their own decisions," he said, "not the one I want them to make. See ya Doc."

The Doctor smiled at his retreating form. "Good man."


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor had to smile. Sometimes it seemed like everything worked out for the best.

"So what do you think about my welcome back gift to the club, huh guys?"

"Thanks for the slushies, Finn. They're delicious," Rachel said.

"And loaded with empty calories," Kurt added. "You know why they call them slushies don't you? 'Cause your butt looks like one if you have too many of them."

"I'd like to propose a toast," Finn said. "To Mr. Schue. You were right about glee club and football being a killer combination. And to the Doctor. You're really teaching us what it's like to be leaders."

A chorus of "hear hear"s rose up as the cups clinked. The Doctor smiled to himself again. This was what it was about. Humans, and the way they banded together into their own little families. By biology, religion, race, creed, gender, hobbies… any which way they could group themselves, they did. You couldn't stop them.

"You OK Quinn?" Will asked.

"Do I look OK? I'm devastated. Now that I'm off the Cheerios, I'll start every day with a slushie facial."

"That's OK if that happens, Quinn. Because there are a dozen of your friends, right here, who are gonna be more than happy to help clean you off." He took a sip of his drink; nobody noticed that the Doctor was politely leaving his untouched. "Ooh, Brain Freeze," Will said. "I can't imagine getting hit in the kisser with one of these."

The Doctor scoffed. "Nor me."

"Neither of you have ever been hit by a slushie before?" Artie asked.

"Uhm," Will said, and the Doctor noticed that his pupils dilated slightly.

"No, no, no, no, no…" the Doctor said slowly, backing away with his hands outstretched.

"Alright guys," Will said. The Doctor glanced at him, warily. "We're a team. Bring it on." He spread his arms, and slapped the Doctor on the chest with the back of his left hand. "Give us your best shot."

"One," Rachel said. The Doctor considered for a split second. Surrender wasn't something he often did. Well, not and mean it too. "Two…" The Doctor, who had fought with Gods and Demons, who had stared down Sontarans and Daleks and Cybermen and Zygons without breaking a sweat, spread his arms wide and clenched his eyes shut. "Three!"

"Allons-y!" He yelled as the cavalcade of purple slush washed over him and Schuester. "Hmmmm. Grapey." He said, then looked at the floor and sighed. "Someone's got to clear those up…" he muttered.

"Alright! From top!"

* * *

Another agonizingly slow week had passed, once again without results. Once again the Doctor was pouring over results from his analysis of the slushies, with no results. Both samples were the same, but the ones that had actually been weaponized were home to a whole chemical cocktail that wasn't present in the freshly drawn sample. It was the same for grape and cherry, morning, noon, or night. He picked up one of the test tubes of cool slush and stared at it, glasses on. What was he missing? "Come on, Doctor..."

If Martha were here, she'd have an idea. The thought drifted through his mind, almost under the radar. Martha Jones... clever Martha, who'd never ever let him down. She stood by him when he was human, traveled the world on the run from the Master's forces just to save him, and tended to him when a creature from the heart of a sun had tried to consume him from the inside out. And not that Rose hadn't been brilliant, and not that he hadn't loved her, but Martha was a scientist. A doctor. And if any of his companions would have been completely at home here, in this situation, it would have been her.

A sharp smell brought him back from his reverie. He'd spilt a bit of the slush onto the console, and it had started to let off vapor of some kind. "Heat!" he exclaimed. "Heat activated! Oh, stupid Doctor! Perfectly benign in the cup, drink it and it denatures before it can do its stuff. But douse someone in the face with it and va-va-va-voom! Chemical cacophony. Chemical cacophony in a cup. But what does it do?" he heated a sample to just over 100 degrees, slightly above body temperature, and left the scanners to do their work on the vapors overnight.

* * *

There were a few places the Doctor had yet to take an in depth reading; the science classrooms upstairs and the basement. A quick flip of a coin made the choice; basement first. There were two entrances to the basement; the elevator at the south, and the stairs at the north. Well, as much running as he did, he could afford to take the easy route once in a while, he reasoned.

When he got to the elevator, he found it required a key. With the sonic screwdriver, that wouldn't have been a problem, but the lock on the panel was deadlock sealed. Finally! This was it! Definte proof of technology that shouldn't have existed in Ohio in the early 2000s. Whatever was going on, there were extraterrestrial forces at work. Now he just had to figure out what they were up to. He ran for the stairs at the south end of the school next, taking them two at a time. The basement was open down there, but there was a wall dividing the space with another locked door - again deadlocked.

As he ran the screwdriver over the door frame he suddenly became aware that something was watching him, and he turned to see what it was. There was a dragon, made of paper mâché and fabric, staring him down. "There we go, much better," he said. "It's about time you showed up. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The dragon made a whirring noise as it scanned him, but remained silent.

"Strong silent type, eh? Well, no matter, I like someone who doesn't natter on about nothing all day. Still, it'd be nice to at least know what you're called." Still no response.

"Whatever you need, I can help," he said. "Just tell me who you are." The dragon looked through him as if he weren't even there. "Alright, fine," he said. "I'm going for now, but I'll be watching. And if there's trouble I'll be back."

He was done with talking to the security system. When whoever was hiding behind those doors was ready to talk, he'd be waiting. On his way back up the stairs he realized just how unlike him that statement seemed. Maybe he was growing a sense of patience in his old age. As much as he'd love for that to be true, it seemed more likely that he was starting to settle into the pace of life here in Lima. He'd been here for almost two weeks now. For a man who usually swept in, walked right into the heart of a problem and tidied it up within a single night, this was an eternity. And yet it didn't look like this was going to be resolved until another eternity had passed. Once you got into the slower pace of life, it was a lot harder to get back into the habit of doing things impulsively and spontaneously. The Doctor lived life _fast_ and he had to get back to it as soon as he could or he was going to start to lose his edge.

His mind made up, he decided that he wasn't going to rest tonight until he had made some kind of progress. There was still the science classroom to investigate, so the Doctor made his way upstairs next, taking the steps two at a time. Just before he headed upstairs, one of the cleaning drones stopped him with a request for further orders; should they polish all the flatware in the kitchen? The Doctor explained that black plastic utensils were common on this world and that they were unpolishable. The drone wanted to know why they'd found an entire bucket of silver polish then. He didn't know and just now he didn't much care, and he told it as much. The drone responded emotionlessly, fortunately not hurt by his lack of interest. It just kept cleaning as ordered, and filed the half empty bucket away as "unimportant".

The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver out as soon as he entered the room, and he was going to scan every square millimeter if he had to. Now he was on fire, he told himself. Now he was on to something, he told himself, and he was going to find some key to the puzzle, he told himself. And then twenty minutes later, almost to his great surprise, he did.

The switch was hidden underneath one of the cabinets, way back and up the side. If he hadn't found the circuitry with the sonic he would have missed it completely. When he pressed it, one of the lower cabinets across the room opened up. There wasn't a single thing inside, but the back of the cabinet seemed somehow flimsy. When he touched it, it swung down to reveal a secret room. He crawled through it to find a hideaway. There was a bed in one corner of the room, a hotplate with a small aluminum pan on a card table in the other, and a bookshelf and a display case on the other walls. He glanced over a few of the book titles. "You think this is hard?", "Mein Kampfh", "Sun Tzu's Art of War", "The Kama Sutra", "Fighting the Future", and a series of crime novels were among the titles, as well as a Bible, a dictionary, and a wirebound book that looked like a journal. But the display case was where the real magic was happening. And by magic of course he meant that it wasn't magic at all because there was no such thing, but there was some absolutely scrumptious alien tech. It was a data reading/encoding device, but it was missing the data chip that went with it and stored all the information. Presumably whoever had this secret hideaway had the chip... probably the same creatures from downstairs in the basement. And he knew one way to get their attention and flush them out at the same time. Pocketing the device, he crawled back out of the room and sealed it back up.

He was so delighted with his find at the end of the night, that he didn't see Quinn poking her head out from the choir room, watching with a mixture of fear and fascination as he ushered twenty spider-like robots and then himself into a broom closet and locked the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Will was surprised to get to rehearsal and find the Doctor already working with everyone. Glen Miller was playing on the boom box and the club members were in pairs, slow dancing, with the exception of Artie, who was keeping time with a pair of drum brushes.

"That's right, twirl!" he said as Will looked on. Finn and Quinn were having trouble as their arms became a tangled mess. The Doctor walked over to them. "Try it again," he said, "but this time don't get her arm all up her back," he said. "I speak from experience." Finn smiled. Quinn just stared at him, tight lipped.

"Don't you think we should be working on the choreography for sectionals?" Will said quietly to the Doctor.

"That's what we are doing," he replied. "Coordination exercise. Ten minutes of slow couples dancing is enough to make anyone aware of where their feet are."

Will smiled approvingly. "Good work, Doc," he said. "You're a natural leader, you know that?"

"I have my moments."

"None of it's going to matter if we don't get that science project done, guys," Tina said. "We have to keep our grades up in order to be eligible to compete."

"Science project?" the Doctor said, his interest piqued.

"Physics," Rachel said, and there was something about the way she said it that made it clear that it was about as far removed from anything she was interested in as it could be. Physics... to rhyme with doom.

"Oh, come on!" he said. "Physics? How can physics be boring? Planets twirling around suns in the depths of outer space, black holes sucking away at time and space and matter, white holes and pulsars and quasars and gravity and motion and electricity and quantum particles!" By this time he was almost shouting with excitement. "It's a whole world out there! Well, a whole universe!" By this time everyone was staring at him. The room had grown stunnedly silent. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Y'know, if you... go for that sort of thing."

"We need an idea for a demonstration we can perform in front of the class to illustrate a point from this semester," Tina said.

"How about a slow dance?" Kurt said, glancing in Finn's direction just slightly too long.

"How would that help?" Mercedes asked.

"Two dancers twirling around one another? It'd be a perfect demonstration of orbits in action, as well as conservation of momentum."

The Doctor waggled his eyebrows and smiled. "Clever lad," he said through a grin.

They really were a bright bunch, he thought as Will started his lesson. Even the one just now expounding upon how a ballad was a male duck that might, or might not, be in a hat.

"But Matt's out sick today," Santana said. "He had to go to the hospital 'cause they found a spider in his ear."

"No problem," Will said. "That's what we have a co-director for. Doc, your name's goin' in the hat."

They started drawing names one by one. Soon every pair had been made, except one.

"Looks like I get you, Dr. Smith," Rachel said.

"Fantastic!" The Doctor said, smiling.

"Would you mind clarifying what kinds of songs you want us to sing?" Artie asked.

"Why don't you let Dr. Smith and I demonstrate? Brad, Endless Love in B flat, please. It's my favorite duet," she said.

"Ooh, uh, I'm afraid I don't know that one," he said, and before the sentence had even ended Rachel had produced the sheet music, seemingly from nowhere, and thrust a copy at him.

The rest of the students had to note that Rachel and the Doctor made a pretty good pair. Rachel was hitting the high notes like the miniature powerhouse she was, and the Doctor's voice rang pretty clearly, with his British accent adding warmth to the music. Towards the end of the song, he took her left arm and twirled her. The makeshift audience applauded, except for Will, who was watching on from behind the piano, warily.

The bell rang and the club members started to break off and head for home. Will came up to the Doctor, took him by the shoulder, and said, "I think we need to talk. Now." He dragged the Time Lord into his office.

Quinn was still sitting in her chair, staring ahead as if she were lost deep in thought without a map back to her starting point. Rachel noticed first, of all people. That should have been an indication that something was wrong.

"Quinn?" she said. No reply. "Quinn? Quinn!"

The blonde shook her head. "Hm?" was all she could muster.

"Rehearsal's over," she said.

"Right, of course. I was just..." she glanced back towards the office where Will and the Doctor were talking. "Have you noticed anything peculiar about Dr. Smith?"

Rachel just grinned. She'd noticed a lot. His hair, his eyes, the smoothness of his voice, how well he danced... "Dr. Smith? I suppose I haven't really paid him much attention."

Finn had noticed by this point, and since he was pretty sure Quinn had caught him stealing a few glances at Rachel during the duet, his survival instinct kicked in. He sidled up to their conversation as casually - but as quickly - as possible.

"Hey, Quinn. What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said.

Quinn looked around the room to make sure nobody else was listening. "If I told you both something that sounded completely crazy, would you believe me?"

"Of course I would," Finn said. "I'd believe anything you told me."

"And I at least like to keep an open mind," Rachel said.

Quinn might have remarked on the veracity of either of those statements if she hadn't been so disturbed by last night. "I came back to the school late last night," she said. "I wanted to see if I could find some way to blackmail Coach Sylvester into letting me back on the squad. I'd only been here a few minutes when I heard something down the hallway, so I ducked into the choir room. It was him," she said, nodding towards the office.

"So?" Finn asked. "Mr. Schue said he was working as the night janitor ever since Andy vanished."

"But more importantly…" Rachel said, "…you broke into the school at midnight?"

"I knew he would be here," Quinn said, ignoring Rachel's nearly naïve innocence. "I was ready to avoid him if I had to. But he wasn't alone."

"Who else was here?" Finn asked.

Quinn chewed her bottom lip as if debating whether to say anything or not. "I know what I'm about to say is gonna sound crazy," she said. "If you know you sound crazy you can't be, right? Like, if you're still sane enough to question yourself, you must be OK, right?"

"Quinn, what was it?" Finn asked.

"Robots." Finn and Rachel just stared at her, with exactly the same slack jawed expression meant to indicate that they thought her brain had melted but weren't willing to say so. "I knew you wouldn't believe me," she said, starting to stand.

"Hey, uh, Quinn?" Finn said, taking her by the upper arm. "Maybe we should get you to a doctor. You know, for your sake, and the baby's."

She spun away from him, tears beginning to form at the corner of her eye. "I'm not crazy, Finn! I don't need a doctor , or a shrink or… a… anything! If you're going to patronize me, just leave me alone!" She stormed out of the room.

Finn made to follow her, but Rachel grabbed his shoulder. "Let me," she said, and bounded out after Quinn.

The blonde had stopped at her locked, and was fumbling with the combination lock. When she could not get it open, she pounded the door with her fist and shrieked. She rubbed her palms on her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Stop staring at me, Berry," she said without taking her hands from her eyes. "If you're here to tell me you think I'm nuts too, you can stop right there. I've been telling myself the same thing all day. Maybe it's just hormones playing tricks on my eyes, right?"

Rachel came up beside her. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it was a dream." She paused. "But maybe you saw what you saw."

Quinn turned to face her halfway. "You believe me?"

"The world's a lot stranger and madder than I thought it was a few years ago," she said. "Remember that space ship over London?"

"If you believe that stuff…"

"I wasn't sure that I did, but… maybe it's worth a look. And if that means getting closer to the Doctor, well… so be it." She smiled a smile that was just a little too wicked to be innocent.


	7. Chapter 7

"Really?" The Doctor asked Will. "A Bhut Jolokia? The ghost pepper. Ominous name."

"Yeah, I guess. I can't remember the name. The point is, she was in a medically induced coma for _three days_. Doc, you gotta stop this before it gets going."

"And you're sure? You're really sure?"

"There's no mistaking that look. You must know the one I mean. I mean, c'mon, this can't be the first time someone fell for you. I bet you've broken your share of young girls' hearts."

"Oh, yeah. Happens to me… quite a lot, actually. Must be the teeth."

"Yeah, teenage girls are totally into oral hygiene," Will said sarcastically.

"Thought so, yeah," he said, missing it.

"Look, Matt should be back tomorrow. Just... take it easy on her, will you?"

"Absolutely. I'll be as careful as I can," he said. "Evening, Will."

"Night Doc."

The Doctor walked out into the corridor, and was about to head back to the broom closet with the TARDIS in it when Sue walked past him. "English! This way," she said, raising her right hand over her head and snapping to get his attention. She didn't stop walking, and just intrigued enough to let the disrespect pass, he followed her to her office. He came inside, and she closed the door and sat down behind the desk.

"I believe you have something of mine," she said without preamble.

"Oh, have I? Sorry, I just found it in… uh… sorry, what're we talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Doctor. You didn't think I'd be stupid enough not to have a security system, did you? I've got you on camera." She unlocked her bottom desk drawer and pulled out a small white cube. "It's not like it'll do you the least bit of good without this. Much like your ridiculously loud tie wouldn't be the same garish disaster without your spiky haircut."

The Doctor wasn't listening. He was leaning over to examine the cube, specs on his nose. "A 4D holographic memory core with quantum folding capacity. Oh, that's lovely, that is." He looked up at her. "And definitely not from around this neighborhood."

"No, it's not," she said. "Who are you?"

"The Doctor. Who are you?"

"Sue Sylvester."

"No, I don't mean your assumed name. I mean who are you and what planet are you from?"

"Sue rolled her eyes and sighed, marveling at the young agent's inept nature," Sue said, rolling her eyes, sighing, and presumably thinking him inept.

"Sorry?" he said.

She pointed at a digital voice recorder sitting next to the datacube. "I've decided the world deserves a chance to live vicariously through me, so I'm drafting a novelization of my life. I'll get Noam Chomsky to transcribe these when I'm done."

"That's all well and good, but my question remains unanswered."

"Earth. I'm from Earth. Ohio even, if you think it's remote enough to be a world in its own right."

"What?"

"C'mon, Doctor. You're giving your government a bad name. Who are you with? MIB? CIA? MI6? MI5?"

"You can't be from Earth. You just... can't. How could you have this?"

"Salvage."

"You found it?"

"Nineteen years ago I was taking a sabbatical in Cuyahoga Valley National Park, like I did every summer. I was... ten... and looking to reorient myself with my more primal instincts."

"You're saying you're only 30 years old?" The Doctor asked, disbelievingly.

"29. I was camping alone under a rock outcropping, with just a hunting knife for defense. I only ate what I killed myself. After a few days of eating nothing but raw rabbit flesh and using the blood to keep myself cool-" the Doctor pulled a face at this mental image, but she carried on without stopping the story. "-I could almost have believed I was hallucinating. I saw a massive fireball hurtling towards the Earth in the distance. I was sure I had imagined it. But the next morning the smoke was still there, so I went to investigate." She leaned in closer to him. "It was a ship. A space ship. That's where I found this."

"A likely story," The Doctor said, arms folded. "No way there's any truth to it, of course."

"Well, for one thing, you couldn't just salvage a 4D holographic memory core with quantum folding capacity. It's not just gonna fall out through a window. That's not an intergalactic thumb drive you've got there. That's the computer core for an entire space cruiser. The entire collected knowledge of an entire species is in there, yottabytes of information. It'd be hard wired into the very heart of the ship."

"Alright," she said shrugging, "so I was good at salvage. I learned a thing or two when I collected scrap metal for the Bolivian Navy."

"When was that, at age 7? Your story's starting to slip. Not that it's much of a story. The day you're 29 is the day I'm only 100."

Sue stood up to face him, getting mere inches from his nose. "None of that really matters," she said. "The point is, I found all this at the crash site. I know where it is, and you don't, and your government wouldn't have kept you hanging around here for a month if it wasn't important that you find it. I consider myself a freelance paranormal investigator and I've already been on the case for twenty years. So when you get tired of running into dead ends and you're ready to hand the investigation over to me, I'll be here waiting to take you there. Now get out of my office. I'm already going to have to burn this track suit to get the residue of inadequacy out, and I don't want to replace the carpet too." She went back to her chair and sat down, busying herself with paperwork. Clearly this interview was terminated.

He stormed his way back to the broom closet with the TARDIS in it. She was infuriating! Completely infuriating! Arrogant, judgmental, with a superiority complex to rival Henry Van Statten's. He would not work with that woman! Not now, not in a thousand lifetimes, not if he had to spend the rest of his life here in this tiny little town.

And yet, she had the encoding device, and the computer core, and if he wanted to play it, he was going to have to find the ship. Under any ordinary circumstances the TARDIS would have picked it up without any problems, but nothing on his own ship was working properly. Without access to the time vortex the TARDIS was failing, and there wasn't much he could do about it. It got its sustenance from the universe itself and being cut off for this long was starting to take its toll. If another month went by this way, he'd have to start deleting rooms.

Two weeks. He'd give himself two weeks, and if he hadn't found anything, then he'd give in to her demands and let her take him to the ship.

* * *

"You sure you're up for this?" Rachel asked, and she seemed genuinely concerned. "I know how important it is that you keep caught up on your rest right now…"

"And miss this?" Quinn said? "If there's a remote chance of seeing you stunned speechless, I wouldn't miss it."

They were hunkered down in the bushes outside the gym, wearing almost absurdly clichéd burglar costumes. Rachel had insisted on making them herself – not that an ensemble of black with a black ski cap was hard to put together, even on short notice, but it still felt ridiculous. Each had a video recording device of some kind; Quinn had "borrowed" a flip cam from her father's study, and Rachel was using the video camera that she normally used to post videos of her singing on the internet. The quality wasn't great on either but Quinn had pointed out that that worked to their advantage. Even if someone thought the videos were faked, it seemed like it would be harder to create low res trickery than something too crisp and sharp to be real.

"Time?" Rachel prompted.

"11:45." Quinn replied.

" _Quinn! How many times?"_

The blonde sighed. "23:45 hours."

" _Thank_ you. Was that so hard?"

"You're making too big a deal out of this," Quinn said. "All I want is evidence that I'm not crazy, not to be one of the Ghostbusters."

"Ssh! Quiet! I hear something!" She had her ear pressed up to the door and could hear a faint scuttling sound from within. She tried the door but it was locked. "You'll have to give me a boost up to the window if I'm going to see anything."

"I'm… not really supposed to be doing any heavy lifting, y'know?"

"Fat jokes? Really Quinn?"

"No, I don't… I wasn't… I'm just not supposed to…"

"You were the bottom of the pyramid for a whole year before you made head cheerleader," Rachel said. "You can give me a leg up for 30 seconds."

"Alright, fine," Quinn said, interlacing her fingers into a brace. Rachel stepped in and hoisted herself up to one of the narrow windows up above. She aimed the camera in through the window by extending her arm all the way up and panning around. "30 seconds was up a long time ago," Quinn said a minute later, her voice straining.

"Fine, fine, I'm coming down," she said. They sat down with their backs to the wall and Rachel rewound the video by a couple minutes. They crowded in around the tiny screen. They watched the video. Then Rachel rewound it and they watched it again. And again. And once more for good measure.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"That depends," Rachel replied. "Do you see a spiderlike robot polishing the hardwood floor, while another one does the windows with a high powered sprayer?"

"Yeah."

"I'm seeing what you're seeing, yeah."

* * *

Bzzt Bzzt. Bzzt Bzzt.

"Hello? Who died?" Finn said, his face muffled by his pillow. "Rachel? Rachel what are you calling for at… what time is it?"

"…"

"2 in the... y'know what, I'm not even gonna say anything. What is it this time? Another nightmare about being in a dead-end career on an off-Broadway production?"

"…"

"Rachel, don't..."

"…"

"You're not making..."

"...!"

"Alright, okay, calm down."

"...!"

"Quinn? What's Quinn doing there with..."

"..."

"Alright, I..."

"..."

"Okay! But..."

"..."

"No, I'm not getting up. I'm exhausted. Between work, glee club, football, and school…"

"…"

"Yes, alright."

"…"

"Yes."

"…"

"Yes."

"…"

"Rachel, I don't want to…"

"…! … … … … … … … … … … …!…I… … … … … …!"

"Alright, alright, I'll watch it tomorrow after rehearsal."

"…"

"Yeah, okay."

"... ..."

"Tell her I love her too." He hung up.

Bzzt Bzzt. Bzzt Bzzt.

"Tomorrow I said! Goodnight, Rachel!" Finn Hudson shut off his cell phone for the night.


	8. Chapter 8

"After rehearsal. I'm pretty sure that's what I said. After rehearsal."

"This can't wait," Rachel told him.

He, Rachel, and Quinn were in the choir room, with Rachel's camera hooked up to one of the school's antiquated TVs.

"I still can't believe you two broke into the school."

"We didn't break in," Rachel said. "All we did was look in through a couple of windows. At worst it was trespassing."

"And voyeurism," Quinn said.

"Ssh. That's not helping us," Rachel said. "Just watch, will you?"

She hit play without waiting for his reply. He watched her shaky video of climbing the wall outside the gym impassively, but when he saw what was through the window his face changed dramatically. "What the..."

"Now do you believe me?" Quinn asked.

"But... I... No. I mean, yes. But, that just can't be! It must be a trick."

"A trick? What do you think we are? AV club?" Quinn asked sarcastically. "Lucasfilm? Pixar?"

"No, I believe you saw it. I meant that what you saw has to be faked."

Her face went deadpan. "You're right. I'm sure there are holograms in the school."

"Yeah, or lasers or mirrors or something," Finn said.

"You are an absolute idiot."

"Enough!" Rachel yelled, and Finn and Quinn both stopped to stare at her. "What are you two fighting about? Who's smarter than the other person? You have got to get your priorities aligned! You two are having a _baby_ , for crying out loud. And more than that, there's-"

The video was still playing, and the recorded Doctor cut her off. "Oh, nicely done! There's a good boy," he said as he stroked one of the spider drones on what amounted to its head. "Spic and span, just the way we like it." He opened up the broom closet door. "Alright, then, off you go." A processional of drones started to march into the open closet.

"How can that many fit in there?" Finn mumbled.

Rachel hadn't heard him. She was looking at the screen again now. "More than that, there's him to contend with. He knows what's going on here."

"We should get to fourth period," Finn said. "Lunch is almost done."

"I'm not really all that hungry just now," Rachel said, still staring at the screen.

"Hey, Finn, what're you doing Sunday night?" Quinn asked as they packed up.

"Not much, just dinner with my mom."

"My dad wants you to come over for dinner. Can you make it?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Good. Just remember, ground rules. Don't say a word about the baby." Finn didn't reply. Just stood there looking uncomfortable. "Finn? What is it?"

"Uh…"

She rounded on him, hands on her hips. "Finn. What did you do? I know that look. You only get that look when you screwed something up."

"My mom kinda… knows," he said hesitantly.

It was silent in the room. Finn said nothing. Quinn said nothing. Rachel watched them say nothing, saying nothing. The calm before the storm was a phrase that came to mind. Then Quinn took a deep, slow breath, let it out as a hissing sound through her teeth, then bitingly said, "What?"

"I didn't mean to tell her. It was kind of an accident."

"How _could_ you?"

"I didn't just come out and say it. Kurt was teaching me this thing about ballads and singing to people and stuff, and-"

"Do you honestly think I care? Finn, this was the _one thing_ I told you not to do! It wasn't even that hard. Just shut up and don't say anything. That's all you had to do!"

She started forcing him out of the room, rounding on him like she was ready to pounce on him and tear his eyes out. Rachel followed, hoping to help stop the bloodshed. She wasn't sure whose blood. And in her concern over the situation that had broken out, she forgot to unplug the camera from the TV.

* * *

The tension had not cleared by the end of the day. Everyone at the rehearsal had felt the chill in the air between Finn at one end of the room and Quinn at the other. Maybe it would have been right to give them their space. Maybe she should have left things alone. Maybe she should have let them cool off before bringing it up again. But Rachel was hot on the trail of this Doctor now, and she wanted – she needed – to know more. There was something about him. Not just the fact he was handsome, tall, dark, and foreign, though that certainly didn't hurt. When she looked into his eyes, it was like looking right into the deepest repository of ancient wisdom and bravery (and also pain, loss, and anger) you could imagine. It was like every emotion was magnified a hundredfold, and it captivated her. She had to know more. Had to know him and who he was and where he came from. It was more than a mystery. It was a mission. An obsession.

So after rehearsal was over, she marched up to Finn. "Come on," she said, not bothering with the fact that not everyone was out of earshot yet. "We've got to keep up the investigation."

"Rachel, I'm not really feeling up to it just now…"

"I'm sorry for what's going on with you, I really am," she said. "But… something's going on around here and we need to find out what it it."

"Why?" Finn asked, and she was taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"What changes if we figure out what's going on? Who's to say it's even bad? This is just like you, you know. Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong and trying to impose your will on everything."

"You're lashing out," Rachel said, "But I can tell you want to know."

"Yeah, go ahead, Finn," Quinn said. "Maybe you can figure it out and tell everyone. That's what you're good at, right? Telling people things?"

"What are you all talking about?" Artie asked.

"It's been pretty frigid in here all afternoon," Mercedes said.

"None of that matters," Rachel said. "There are things going on at this school that are much bigger than a little squabbling."

"What kind of things?" Kurt asked.

Rachel looked at everyone assembled. Finn and Quinn, looking sour and avoiding each others' gaze. Artie and Mercedes, in the middle of swapping history notes. Tina, shyly observing everything without saying anything, and Kurt sitting with his arms crossed, doubt etched on his face. She took a deep breath. "There's something about Dr. Smith. Something he's not telling us. And we think he's involved in something… I don't know. Military, government, whatever. Maybe he's an alien for all we know."

"Now you're not talking sense at all," Mercedes said.

"Well then how do you explain the robots?" Rachel asked. The room became silent; everyone was stunned. And after a few seconds, Rachel became infuriated at Quinn and Finn's silence. "Finn, you saw the video. Quinn, you saw it yourself!" Neither said anything, too ashamed of how crazy it sounded and how it would make them look. Rachel looked at them with a mixture of contempt and pity, and said, "Fine! If you don't believe me, come see for yourself!" She stormed out of the room.

Initially, nobody made to follow her. But Quinn sullenly got up from her seat, swung her backpack up onto her back, and called, "Wait, on my way!" Finn rolled his eyes and followed, and with a degree of hesitation, the other members followed suit. Rachel had finally gone and flipped her lid, and nobody really wanted to miss it.

They found her with a hairpin outside the janitor's closet, trying to get it open.

"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked her.

"Proving to you I'm not crazy."

"No, I mean, with the hairpin. You've got to align the flat side to the… here, just let me."

Mercedes went to work on the lock. "So… why do you know how to pick a lock?"

"Hey, hey, don't make assumptions," she replied. "My uncle's a locksmith."

Mercedes pushed the door open. All of them stared into the broom closet. Rachel was especially unable to cope with what she saw there. It was the last thing she had expected to see. She opened her mouth, stunned rigid. No words came out.


	9. Chapter 9

Everyone else was speechless, too. There was nothing else to say, but somehow Kurt found the words. "So," he said. "Which is the robot? The mop, the broom, or the bucket?"

Aside from the normal tools of the janitorial trade, the closet was empty.

"I'm not crazy," Rachel said. "I've still got the video." She made an about face and headed back towards the choir room. The camera was still attached to the TV, but when she turned it on the screen displayed nothing but static. "It's been erased," she said. "There's nothing on it." By this time everyone else was losing interest. They started to file off one by one. Rachel spun to face Quinn. "You have a copy," she said. "Will you bring it with you on Monday?" There was a fire in her shining eyes.

"Sure," Quinn said. She turned to Finn. "Remind me Sunday, will you?"

"You... still want me to come?"

She smiled softly. "Yeah, I do," she said.

"Well, alright then," he said, returning the smile. "See ya then."

* * *

The Doctor moved away from where he was listening outside the door before Finn, Rachel, or Quinn could see him.

Sunday was the perfect day for it. Just wait until everyone was down at dinner, climb up the tree outside and into her room, find the tape, and destroy the magnetic information with the sonic. He'd found her parents' names and addresses from the school database, and checked the house early Saturday morning for access points. And he'd overheard the dinner plans Quinn made with Finn on Friday. It looked like everything had fallen neatly into place. Hopefully nobody would even know he was ever there. Rachel would be disappointed, of course, but he couldn't let her get any closer than she was already. There was already a disturbing tendency for people to get hurt when they touched him, even for a moment, but if what Will had said was true then… it was happening again. Like with Rose, like with Martha, it was going to get complicated. He really wasn't sure that he could take it again.

How had it ended up this way? Back when he started traveling with Susan, he'd set out to see the cosmos and have an adventure or two. When had he become a Casanova, leaving a string of broken hearts behind him? That wasn't the plan. That wasn't the way it was ever meant to go. But here he was, trying to keep another young woman from building up in her mind a fantasy that he had no desire to fulfill. She'd be frustrated, and angry most likely, but in the long run it would be better for her – better for everyone – if she and the others never knew what he was there for, never figured out who he was. It was safer that way. Sometimes lonely, certainly, but if nobody else got hurt on his behalf then it would be worth the sacrifice.

The window opened silently, mercifully enough, and the tape wasn't even locked away. It was sitting on her desk, on top of a notebook. Fifteen seconds with the sonic and everything would be dealt with. He counted it off in his head, and gave it a few more seconds of sonic energy for good measure. Now, problem solved. He had better leave.

He heard raised voices coming from downstairs. He shook his head. It wasn't his business, wasn't his concern. He was here to destroy any evidence of himself, and he'd done that. It was time to go. Time to keep out of other peoples' affairs.

Well… maybe a quick listen wouldn't hurt. He climbed carefully down from the desk, leaving the window open for a quick escape. Then he crept over to the door and opened it just a crack.

"…and I needed you. I needed my mom. And you were so scared of what he would do…" The Doctor's hearts beat just a little bit slower. He knew this scene. He'd seen it play out this way before. Not always, of course. It didn't always go this way, but often enough. And it hurt, on their behalf.

"Now, do not turn this on us! You are the disappointment here!"

He couldn't make out the words that came in reply but the choked sobs were unmistakable. He closed the door again and rested his forehead on the doorframe. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Really I am so sorry."

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Time to be off. "Judy!" Quinn's father called, and he heard another set of footsteps hurrying to meet him. The tyrant and his faithful companion. He couldn't help it. He was angry. There was something about people like that that he couldn't abide.

He waited on the roof while she and Finn packed a few things together as quickly as they could, and watched as Finn drove off down the street, a crying Quinn in the passenger seat. Then he jumped off the roof, dusted himself off, and rang the doorbell. Russell Fabray answered the door, a stern expression on his face and a glass of scotch in his hand.

The Doctor stepped into the foyer, pushing his way past Russell and flashing the psychic paper at him. "I'm with the power company," he said without preamble. "There's radon in this neighborhood. Have to take care of any leaks you might have. You understand of course. Won't take a tick. Where's the water heater, then, downstairs? In the basement? Lovely. I'll see myself down. Thanks ever so much," he said, opening the door to the basement and closing it again after him, if only just a little bit too hard.

Judy Fabray was doing a load of washing downstairs, sobbing quietly into a drink. He heard the door to the basement open from upstairs. "Wait just a damn minute," Russel said, starting down the stairs.

"Quite right, sir," the Doctor called back, "Good of you to offer assistance. If you would, just turn all the taps on the main floor up as hot as they'll go, I'll be able to find the leak.

"After you barge in here…"

"Sorry, of course," the Doctor said, looking at Russell who had now come halfway down the stairs. "Silly, silly me, I should of course have waited until after the explosion."

"Explosion?"

"Yes, the explosion. You didn't think radon was a slow death, did you? No, no, it tends to get up to a lethal concentration and then… well, if it's all the same to you I'd rather not repeat that memory, sir. But, if this really is a bad time, if you really want me to go, then I can leave and you can deal with this yourself. Get a radon detector, try to eradicate it yourself, neutralize the existing radiation… you should be able to find a blog post about it on the internet or something. Reversing the polarity of the neutron flow is the hard bit. Might cost a couple thousand but you'll be just fine I'm sure. 'course, you could just let me get it. Have your problem wrapped up in about five minutes, and it's all free of charge of course."

Russell looked unsure but he was starting to be swayed. "Five minutes?"

"Four minutes forty seven seconds," the Doctor replied. "Promise." Russell shrugged and turned to walk away. "Oh, Mr. Fabray?" The Doctor called back up. "The taps. Don't forget the taps please."

He heard the water start to run, and made a show of running over the water heater with the sonic screwdriver, doing nothing. When he was sure Russell was out of earshot he turned to Judy. "Listen," he said. She continued sobbing, so he grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. He leaned down so he was looking right into her eyes. "Listen to me," he said. "Judy? Judy, look at me. I'm the Doctor. Whatever's going on here, whatever you need, I can help, if you'll let me."

She shook her head, confused. "Doctor? What do I need with a doctor?"

"No, no, I mean… I know what's going on here, in this house, and if you want me to, I can help. Cause when I look in your eyes I don't just see sadness about what he's done. I see fear in you, Judy Fabray, but you don't have to live like that. Not anymore. Not ever. But if you want my help then I need you to say so."

"Hello?" Russell called from upstairs. "Everything alright now?"

"Yes, yes, perfectly fine," the Doctor called up. "Keep 'em running!" He returned to his whisper and spoke to Judy. "I know you don't agree with what he did to your daughter," he said. "You can see her again, right now. She'll be waiting for you. You can stand up, you can say no, and I'll help. That's a promise. What do you want to do?"

She swallowed hard, the tears making lines down her face with her mascara in tow. She seemed to be debating, but then she replied, "He's my husband, and it's my job to support him. Whatever the cost."

"You can't mean that," the Doctor said.

"Who are you? What are you even doing here?" She asked.

"Apparently wasting my time." He released her shoulders, turned, and walked up the stairs. She followed behind him.

"Everything taken care of?" Russell asked.

"No. I'll have to send a tech out with some better equipment. They'll be here between 4 AM and Midnight tomorrow, " he said. "Or possibly Thursday." He had reached the door. He turned to look at the two of them, and Russel thought he seemed awfully heartbroken about a radon leak. "I suppose I can't help here after all." And with that, he stormed out into the drizzling rain.

"Who was that?" Russell asked.

Judy just shrugged. "I'm not sure," she said, her voice barely a whisper.


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks later, the TARDIS still wouldn't fly, the Doctor still didn't know who was dosing the slushies, Will was still concerned about Ken and Emma, and the glee club was still trying to get ready for sectionals. At least he knew what was going on with everyone's musical affinity now; the chemical cocktail was maturing the growth of the primary auditory cortex, the part of the brain responsible for tone, notes, and for music appreciation. What he couldn't figure out was how the dose was getting there to begin with. Other area convenience stores had the same drinks, but nothing amiss about them. Even a fresh sample taken right from the delivery truck was unaffected. That meant someone was inserting the chemical mix after the drinks got to the school, and the Doctor was going to find out who.

He felt slightly bad about the whole slushie thing, though, because even though he had to find out why someone was doing this and what they hoped to gain, it was kind of a shame to shut down this kind of talent. Maybe the musical appreciation would stay the same, he thought. He hoped so. Anyone who was already affected would be the same for the rest of their life; the abnormal brain development was permanent. But maybe the musical well of talent would find a way to continue. Probably not as good as it was now, with the show choir's performances rivaling a Broadway musical for quality, but if there was one thing the Doctor had learned never to do, it was underestimate humans.

He had already decided that no matter what he found, even if there were aliens and monsters, if he could at all allow it without anyone dying, he was going to let things continue through sectionals. He wanted answers, not to pull the rug out from under the glee club right before the big day. And truth be told, he was honored to be going with them. Will had disqualified himself from the competition by accepting the gift of firm inner springs and lumbar support, and now it was up to the Doctor, co-director, to oversee the trip to sectionals. It was astounding, and not entirely unwelcome, to be so involved in their lives.

The Doctor was used to coming in and solving problems within a few days' time. He'd never spent this much time with anyone save his companions and the Brigadier and UNIT back in his third regeneration. And although time was incredibly boring the long way around, he was enjoying a change of pace. There was excitement to be found if he looked hard enough for it. He'd destroyed computer viruses on Emma's PC, increased the T1 throughput into the school by 4%, helped the physics teacher Mr. Langley demonstrate general relativity with a bowling ball and a cricket bat, and gone toe to toe with Sue Sylvester.

Now it was time to confront the cheer coach again. The self imposed deadline had just passed. Now it was time to ask for her help. He found her in her office, writing in a spiral bound notebook.

"Sue," he said, leaning on the chair facing her desk. "I need your help."

She looked up at him, smiled, and said, "I'm glad you finally asked." She stood up, walked right up to him, and in one smooth motion he was surely not expecting, she cut his tie off at the knot. He stared at her, flabbergasted. "I know the shock is painful but the first step is admitting you have a problem."

He felt around his neck. "You cut off my tie!" he said. "Sonny Bono gave me that tie!" he said, his voice going all squeaky.

"Glad I could help," she said, returning to her seat, seemingly unaware that she had done no such thing. The Doctor wasn't fooled. He could tell when someone thought they were surprising him. Unfortunately they very rarely did.

"I need you to show me where the ship is. It's the key to unlocking all the mysteries plaguing this school, and I have to get to the bottom of it."

"I admire your God complex," she said. "Tomorrow. Meet me here at 4 AM."

He shook his head. "Tomorrow won't work," he said. "I'm going with the glee club to sectionals since Will's disqualified."

"Too bad. Saturday's the only day I'm going in the foreseeable future."

He fixed her with a hard stare. He knew what she was doing and he wasn't about to play the game. He wouldn't grovel, wouldn't beg... but instead he drove straight to the point. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

She looked up from her notebook again, smiled a patronizing smile as if she were speaking to an idiot, and said, "Why, Jonathan, to destroy the glee club of course." She scoffed as if his question had been stupid.

At least she was honest. No beating around the bush this time. No hidden agendas. It was almost refreshing. He made one last effort. "What if I showed you," he said, taking out the psychic paper, "a signed order from the president of the United States himself ordering your full cooperation?"

"That would be very impressive," she said. "However it looks like all you have there is a piece of blank paper."

He sighed. "Tomorrow. 4 AM." Then he turned on his heel and left. This was not going to be a fun chat with Will.

"I can't believe you would do this to me," Will said, staring open mouthed at the Doctor across a table in the teachers' lounge. "And not even to me, but to the kids! They can't go alone."

"I'm sorry, Will. Really, I am. But this is important. I wouldn't just cancel on you for a flight of fancy."

"What is it? What is it that's so important, that you'd crush these kids' dreams?"

The Doctor grasped for words. He usually opted for honesty in a situation like this. He'd happily run his mouth and tell Roman soldiers that the problem they were facing was a temporal inversion caused when two layers of temporal strata become intertwined and switch places knowing full well they wouldn't understand a single word. But somehow, telling Will that he was blowing off his co-director's duties to go check out a space ship that crashed in Cuyahoga national park two decades ago with his arch rival didn't seem like a smart plan. "Their lives," he replied quietly. "This is a matter of life and death, I promise you."

Will ran his hand over his face from the eyes down, as if he were wiping the stress off. "What do you need? Can I help? If you'd just tell me what this is about..."

"I can't. I'm sorry I just... I can't." He sat back in his chair. So did Will.

"How's it going fellas?" Emma asked, sitting at the table with her lunch box and donning a rubber glove.

"Not so great," Will said. "Doc can't make it to sectionals."

"Then... who's gonna take the kids?"

"I don't know."

"Well... I guess... I could."

Will shook his head. "Emma, the wedding is on Saturday. Your wedding."

"I know. But... we could just push it back a few hours. Really, I want to do this, Will. I want to take the kids to sectionals."

"Okay, but… What about Ken?"

"I'll appeal to him as an educator."

"Emma, if you're sure..." she nodded, and he sighed. "I can't thank you enough."

The Doctor smiled. "There we go. All solved then."

Will glared at him. "Yeah. All solved."

* * *

The Doctor held back from glee rehearsal that afternoon. He wanted to give everyone a few minutes to talk about him, question his loyalty, and say whatever they liked about him before he showed up. He deserved whatever they said. He'd promised to come through for them and he'd failed. But when he finally started walking towards the choir room, he ran into Finn, quite literally. Finn was running and crying, not caring where he was going or who was in his way when he barreled into the Doctor, who caught him in an accidental hug coming around the corner.

"Oooph!" the Time Lord said. "Careful, there, QB. Save it for the football field." Finn didn't say anything. He didn't even make eye contact. "Finn? Anything the matter?"

"It's Quinn!" he shouted. "She lied! She lied about our baby."

"What do you mean? What lie?" It was obvious that the young man didn't want to talk about it. He shook off the Doctor's grip, leaned against a wall of lockers and dug his palms into his eyes. He didn't want to be bothered or talked to, and that was why it was important that someone did. "Finn!" he said, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him, firmly but gently. "Finn, look at me. What's happened?"

"I'm not the father, Puckerman is," Finn said. "He slept with my girlfriend. My best friend and my girlfriend, and they betrayed me!"

The Doctor pulled him into an embrace, this time intentional. He let him snivel all over the brown pinstriped suit, not caring in the slightest.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Betrayal hurts, especially from the people we love."

"But... I still love her. It's weird, but I definitely still love her. Doc, why do I still love her?"

He pulled back, and held Finn by his shoulders at arms length. "Because you're a good man. The mark of greatness, Finn Hudson, isn't in how smart you are or how much money you have or how much people like you. Real greatness is being able to look past all the things that people do, to see them right down to the core of their being, and to love what you find there, no matter what they've done to you. The people that realize that everyone is important... those are the people who will change the world."

"Do you know what the worst thing is?"

"Hm?"

"I know we're young and stupid, and that Quinn just wanted to give it up for adoption anyway but... I was really excited about being a dad."

The Doctor patted him on the back. "One day."

Finn nodded. "Yeah. One day." They stood in silence for a minute. "I gotta go, Doc. I got a lot to talk about with my mom."

"Good lad. Off you go."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's R &Ring!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Of all the things I've ever written in my life, this is one of the scenes I'm happiest with.

"Alert! Alert! Drone under attack!" the central control unit informed him from inside the TARDIS console room. The Doctor looked up, alarmed. He hadn't let the drones out for a while because Will had been camped in the choir room for a few days, but today he'd stated his intention to move to a motel. If he had changed his mind...

"What location?"

"Sector Alpha-01-154. Designation 'choir room'," the central processor said.

"Oh no." He ran towards the choir room, and smacked right against the door. Locked, fine. He banged on it with one hand, using the sonic on the lock with the other. "It's okay!" he called. "I can explain, Will!"

The door opened to reveal not Will, but Quinn, backed into a corner on the top row of the risers, brandishing a textbook and smacking a drone repeatedly with it. Every time she did so, it tried to wipe the book, or her shoes, with the white rag it was carrying. Finally she pulled her foot back and kicked it, giving it a right wollop directly in the ocular sensor and sending it flying to land at the Doctor's feet, deactivated. She seemed to be seeing him standing there for the first time. "Get away from me!" she yelled, pointing the textbook at him.

"Quinn, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"What the hell is that?"

"How did you get in here?"

"Who are you, anyway?"

He noticed what else she had with her: a suitcase and a blanket, with four chairs pushed together to make a makeshift bench. "Quinn, were you planning to sleep here tonight?"

"There's nowhere else for me to go," she said.

"Did Finn's family evict you?"

"I didn't give them the chance," she said. "I couldn't take it again. So I packed my things and left before they got home." She snapped the book back up - she had started to relax her stance - and pointed it at him again, like a weapon. "Now answer my questions! Come on!"

"The drone is a robot, it's programmed to keep things clean. It's been cleaning your school since I got here two months ago. Well, it and a few others."

"Where's it from? MIT? CIA?"

"Taciburt. Which isn't a Japanese company, don't bother to Google it. It's a level 7 planet in the Sarpatian cluster."

"Wha...?"

"Yep. No lie. It's alien."

"Alien like... like extraterrestrial?"

"Yep."

"How'd it get here?"

"I brought it."

"You mean you're..."

"Yeah." She sat in the nearest chair, put her head in her hands, and started to cry. "No, no no no!" he said, taking a few steps closer. "The good kind! I promise, no dissections or implants or... probing. Bleech."

She shook her head - that wasn't why she was crying. "Did you destroy our tape? Rachel's and mine, did you destroy it?"

"Yes. I couldn't let word of who I was get out until my investigation was done. I'm sorry."

"People thought we were _crazy_. And we saw all those robots in that tiny broom closet, but then when Rachel opened it..."

"I saw that on the tape too, so I moved it."

"The robots?"

"No, my ship." He walked up, and picked up her suitcase. "Wanna see?"

She looked at the suitcase in his hand. "What're you doing with that?"

"I'm not going to stand idly by while a pregnant woman tries to sleep on hard plastic chairs. Come on."

She would have put up a fight, but he was already almost out the door. She followed, if for no other reason than to keep her bag from being stolen. He took her to the auditorium, backstage. She watched him pull a key from his pocket, but he didn't use it on the door. Instead he produced a tube which made an electronic buzzing sound and pressed it against the lock. He pulled the door open to reveal a closet filled with props.

"You have a space ship in here?" she asked, and it was only the automatic janitorial robot she had seen earlier that kept her from calling him an out and out liar.

"Sure do! Just over there in fact," he said, pointing to a large blue prop, in which there was definitely no room to lie down.

"If I have to sleep standing up I think I'd rather have the chairs," she said.

"Take my hand," he said, putting the suitcase down and extending his hand. She took it, noticing again how cold his skin was. He started to walk her around the thing. "This is my ship. It's called the TARDIS. It's an acronym... Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. Go ahead, put your left hand on the side while we go around."

She did as he said, and sighed, "What are we doing?"

"Saving time." They were back at the front of the box now. He reached over and handed her the key. "Go ahead," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Then will you let me go back to the choir room and sleep?"

"If you still want to."

"I'm sure I will." She turned to the door, stuck the key in the lock, and pushed the door open with a creak. She stood there. And stood there. And stood there. "What...? Is...?"

"Yeah."

"Is this...?"

"Yep."

"But it's... we walked..."

"...all the way around, yeah," he said.

She took a few tentative steps into the massive, cathedral-like room. "How'd this all fit?"

"It just does." He pushed past her and leaned on the console, facing her, and smirking. "So, reactions? I've seen them all. Can't surprise me anymore." Quinn stood there on the ramp a moment, swallowed hard, trying to take it all in...

...and was suddenly violently ill over the railing next to the hat rack.

"Okay, well… well done. That is a new one," the Doctor said.

* * *

"There you go," he said, setting a mug in front of her. "Ginger tea. Perfect for an upset stomach. Well… almost ginger. A root, anyway. Well… almost a root. Well…"

Quinn occasionally looked over her shoulder, as if she were expecting the vastness of rooms around her to suddenly realize how impossible it was to fit inside that tiny wooden box and either explode outwards or collapse inwards onto them. The Doctor had taken her to the kitchen (one of the kitchens, he said… just how big was it in here?) and set one of the robots to work cleaning up the console room. "Sorry," she said. "The morning sickness hasn't quite let up yet."

"It's okay," he said.

Her eyes welled up again. "How is it okay? I've lost everything in my entire life that ever meant anything. Popularity and my cheerleading uniform, that was one thing. It's not that important in the grand scheme of things. But aren't some things supposed to be sacred? Everything has been taken from me. My body, my boyfriend, my friends, my home." She was sobbing, and now she started to tremble.

"I meant about the sick..." he said quietly.

"Oh God..." she nearly whispered, as if giving a summation of everything she'd been through was making all of the sadness come crashing down on her. "I'm pregnant, and homeless, at sixteen, and out of all of that the thing that hurts more than anything else is... is... my mom. And my dad. My parents don't even love me anymore." The grief was too much for her now. She laid her head on the counter and sobbed. She felt the baby kick inside, maybe offering commiserations in her own way.

He let her cry for a long while, and when she finally settled down from wailing sobs into sniffles, he said, "I know how you feel."

She was miserable, and she didn't want hollow sympathy. "What have you ever lost?" she asked, more bitingly than she'd intended. "At least you haven't lost your home," she amended more quietly.

He fixed her with a hard look, but there was no anger in his voice – only sadness – when he said, "Yes, I have."

She looked confused. "Aren't we sitting in it?"

"Yeah, I've still got the TARDIS but… my planet's gone. The whole civilization. It burned, collateral damage in a war."

She looked up at him. "Taciburt is gone?"

He smiled wanly. "That was just a place I stopped once. No, I'm from a different planet. I'm from Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous."

"Gallifrey..." she said, rolling the word off her tongue. "it sounds... beautiful."

"Oh, it was. And there's so much more gone with it. I was the Lord President once. I had a wife, and children… even a granddaughter."

"Did any of them survive?"

He shook his head. "They're all gone now. It's just me. I'm the last of my species."

She didn't know why she had the urge to challenge him, basically one-upping him sorrow for sorrow. Maybe she wanted to prove that her world had shattered more deeply than anyone else's could. Maybe she wanted to know that someone else could really identify with her. "And was there ever anyone else you loved? The one that got away?"

"There was one person... this friend... and she's gone now, too."

"What happened?"

He stared at a faraway point somewhere over her left shoulder, maybe light years away, maybe a whole universe removed, for nearly a full, silent minute, then he suddenly snapped to and said, "She went home. Back with her family, reunited. Safe and sound."

She chuckled. "Well, at least you still have your body, then." her tone was teasing now, as if she thought that no matter what, she could at least win playing the gender card.

"Lost that too," he said. "Nine times."

Her face fell, a look of astonishment crossing her features as she stared open mouthed. "You mean on your planet, it's the guys who..." she gestured vaguely towards her stomach.

He burst out laughing at that one. "Nothing so exciting as that." he pulled out the psychic paper and stared at it through glasses he had pulled, seemingly, from nowhere. "Now, I very rarely do images with this but I think... ha! There we go!"

He showed her a picture of an old man. "Who's this? Your dad?"

"Nope, it's me." The picture changed to a man with a bowl haircut and a scruffy suit.

"Brother?"

"Still me."

The pictures flashed by on what she assumed was a sort of PDA. A distinguished gentleman with tall, curled hair. A man in a hat and coat wearing the longest scarf she'd ever seen. A blonde with long hair dressed all in white. A man with a perm wearing a jacket that would have made Kurt have a nervous breakdown. A crotchety looking guy with an umbrella. A man with long hair and a green velvet coat. A man with a buzz cut, a black sweater, and a leather jacket, and finally the man who stood across the counter from her.

"How can those faces all be yours?"

He put the psychic paper back in his coat pocket. "Nah, gotta save some surprises for later," he said. "Now come on, off you pop. Big day tomorrow."

"What is?"

"Sectionals," he said, as if he couldn't believe she'd forgotten.

"It was quite honestly the furthest thing from my mind."

"I'll be gone when you wake up. I've got an errand tomorrow. Just, don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't dare. I already think I might be crazy. I don't want anyone else to agree."

"Good. It's very important. My life could depend on it." He was deadly serious. It was the first time anyone had placed their life in her hands. His face brightened into a smile again. "Now, head down that corridor, take a left, and you'll find about the most comfortable bed you can imagine."

"Thanks," she said. She reached into her pocket. "Here, I still have your key."

He was alteady walking away. "Hang onto it. Be sure to lock up when you leave." And he had turned a corner before she could reply.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another mainly dialogue driven chapter here. Those who crave a bit more should hang on until next chapter, which is double long, action packed, and has a lot of Sue in it ;).

Sue was waiting for Dr. Smith in her office at 4 am the next day, as promised. So far, he hadn't shown up. If he didn't make an appearance soon she was going to leave, and go back to plan A. Plan A involved waiting until the bug she planted in the choir room's piano alerted her to the fact that Will was onto her game with the set list. She had even drafted a bit of a "Things you're no good at," speech which she was sure would be grating - like running her fingernails down the chalkboard of his soul.

That's it, she thought. 4:15. Let John Smith figure things out on his own. But when she got out to the parking lot, he was there in a long brown coat, wearing a blue baseball hat and drinking a cup of coffee or tea out of a Styrofoam cup, and sitting on the hood of her Le Car. "There you are," he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up."

She approached the car and unlocked it, taking a good long look at his ensemble. "Are you actually wearing a hat with pinstripes?"

"It matches the suit!" he said in mock shock.

"Unfortunately it has also earned you the inescapable nickname of Pinstripe," she said.

"Good. Good good good. I'll add it to the list. Better than 'the oncoming storm' any day."

"It's nearly three hours by car," Sue said. "Gas is on you, seeing as how I don't want to go and all."

"Oh, Sue, I can just tell this is going to be pleasant beyond measure," he said sarcastically. "You have the data cube?"

She held it up. "You have the encoder?"

He held it up. "We're ready to get this show on the road. C'mon, then. Allons-y."

"Don't speak French at me, you filthy commie," she said, sitting in the driver's seat and starting the car.

"Sorry, are you just... saying things to say them now?"

"There we go. Finally getting the hang of this, eh Pinstripe?" And with that the car peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Quinn was awake, but she didn't dare open her eyes. When she did, she was sure she was going to be back in the choir room, and the thing with the bigger-on-the-inside phone booth and the kind man commiserating with her over people and things that they'd both lost would be just a sociologist, like he claimed to be. She'd been having crazy dreams lately, after all. She blamed the baby. Then again, maybe it was _all_ a dream. Maybe she'd wake up in her own bed. Her Cheerios uniform would be hanging on the back of the door, Finn would still be her boyfriend, her parents would still love her, and her biggest worry would be dismounting from the top of the pyramid after school, not trying to decide what she would do with a baby.

A gentle _thump thump thump_ from her belly shattered that dream pretty quickly. "You couldn't let me forget you were there, even for a minute?" she grumbled. She opened her eyes, and saw nothing around her. It took a moment for her to realize that it was simply pitch black wherever she was. She sat up, and when she did so the room began to brighten slowly. She was in a bed, after all, in a room with metal walls and an eclectic arrangement of furniture. No way, no _way_ was this reality.

She stood up, placing her feet on the cold metallic floor, without a pair of slippers. That seemed more like reality: cold, hard, unforgiving, et cetera. She started to look around the room. It seemed like someone else had occupied this room before. Maybe Dr. Smith's granddaughter, or that friend he had mentioned? She looked at the assortment of knick knacks on the dresser, most of which were unidentifiable, and definitely alien. When she touched one sphere with what looked like a lens on it, a miniature hologram of the man in the leather jacket from last night's slideshow appeared with a young blonde leaning her back against his. An alien sun drifted below a horizon of rocky spires behind them. "Space camera," she said, and chuckled. If she was going crazy, at least this was a nice day for it.

He had put her suitcase outside the door in the hall, and she changed quickly, taking the performance dress out as well. Fortunately it wasn't too wrinkled, because she had no idea if there was an iron, or a space iron, or maybe even a full dry cleaners in here. She skipped a shower, having taken a hot, soaking bath in the tub adjacent to the bedroom last night before bed. She'd even found silk pajamas in the dresser. A girl could get used to this.

She had a mild moment of panic when she realized that she didn't know the way to the front door from here, having been woozily guided back here last night and propped into a stool. She grabbed everything she needed and headed in what she hoped was the right direction. She found other rooms like the one she had slept in, a library with a pool at one end, an indoor tennis court, and the kitchen with her half drunk tea.

Her stomach grumbled, and she realized that she hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon. The refrigerator was recognizable enough but the stove or any other appliances were a mystery, as were several of the fruits and vegetables in the fridge and on the counter. There were things you weren't supposed to eat when you were pregnant, and she wasn't sure what all of them were on Earth, let alone Venus or Endor or wherever this stuff was from. She settled on a banana from the counter and a piece of bread, not even daring to try the milk in case it came from a giant space whale or something weird like that. Her watch beeped. 8:30. Almost time to get the bus up to the competition. She had finally found the console room, and she stopped to stare at the tall column in the center. She had no idea what it was for, but something about it gave off a sense of power and importance.

Just beyond the column was the front door, with the words Police Public Call Box in reverse, illuminated by a row of light bulbs. She stared at them for a moment. She really didn't want to walk through those doors. What was waiting for her out there? No family, no home, and the glee club were all going to be _enraged_ at her. If she hadn't lied, maybe Finn would still be coming, and then the club would be able to participate without Jacob Ben Israel filling in the spot. How hard it would be to disappear in here for the rest of her life? People would look for her… or not. She'd just be the girl that disappeared. Nobody wanted her, nobody cared anyway. Let her become a story swapped over tables in a police bar somewhere, the pregnant teenager who disappeared and was never seen or heard from again. Maybe she died, maybe she ran away and changed her name. Who would know?

Who would care?

She had hurt so many people… maybe the best thing she could do for them was to leave them all alone. But that wasn't solving the problem, either. She was going to suck it up, walk out those doors, and give the best damn performance of her life.

Walking through the doors in the other direction was as disconcerting as going in through them. It wasn't that the box was small – it took up most of this little closet. But compared to the whole world that was inside, it was miniscule. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around it. Was everything really in between the doors and the back wooden panel? Or was the inside somewhere else entirely? It made her head hurt. She closed the door, locked it, and headed for the choir room.

"Quinn!" Rachel said when she came in. "We've been calling you. Where were you last night? I asked my dads if you could come and stay with us, but I couldn't reach you."

"I found a place," Quinn said simply. "Come on, let's go knock this thing out of the park."


	13. Chapter 13

"The entrance is in one of these caves," Sue said. The Doctor pulled out the sonic and started to walk into the cave, but Sue held an arm in front of his chest. "My investigation, remember?"

He gestured for her to go ahead. "By all means," he said. She nodded and started leading them down into the darkness, with only their flashlights to illuminate a few steps ahead of them. "So," he said as they descended, "I couldn't help but notice that you seem to have it in for the glee club, trying to destroy their chances today just because you knew I'd have to choose this over taking them to the competition."

"Pinstripe, sometimes in order to make an omelet, you have to take down a third world country or two."

"That's not really answering my question," he said.

"They're parasites, Jonathan," she said, "only capable of staying alive by feeding off the life force of other organisms… like my Cheerios."

"Nah, but, if this were a funding issue you could find someone else to foot your bills… extravagant though they may be. So what is it really about?"

She sighed. "I don't trust people who don't have enemies," she said. "People that don't go through life looking over their shoulder fall into one of two categories; they're either ignorant, or they're the predators. I grew up with a handy capable sister and the torment that was dumped on her because she was different..."

"It's heartbreaking. I'm sorry. Oh, Sue, I am-"

"I don't want your pity, Jonathan. Yes, it was heartbreaking, but more than that it was unfathomable. How could one person be so terrible to another? I had to be able to protect her. I had to stop them."

"And sometimes the best way to fight fire, is with fire," the Doctor said. "Sometimes, there's a fine line between what you intend to stop, and what you become to stop it."

She was quieter now. "Yes, there is." She wiped an eye. "It's only a hundred yards or so ahead now," she said, pointing down the cave now that they'd reached a long straight section.

The Doctor wasn't ready to change the topic just yet. And maybe Sue's struggle wasn't on the galactic scale, and maybe she didn't have the blood of whole worlds on her hands, but he understood what she meant. Who was he? The savior of millions? 'The man who makes people better,' as the Master had said? Or was he the man who had slaughtered scores of people? The Zygons, the Cybermen, the Daleks and the Time Lords, the Nestene Consciousness, the Gelth, the Cybermen and the Daleks again... the list went on and on.

"It's a choice," he said. "A new one every day. Who do you want to be? What are you going to stand for. You are so strong, Sue, and so capable. If you'd turn that into a fight for good things, you could make a difference. You could change the world."

"You know, if you were any more sanctimonious right now you would probably hurt yourself," Sue said, and the moment was gone.

The rock had crumbled away now, and they were standing on a precipice looking out into a large cavern. The sunlight streamed in again through an unnatural skylight made when the ship presumably crashed.

But where was the ship? "Where's the wreck?" the Doctor asked.

"Nineteen years ago this was a natural aquifer," Sue replied. "When the ship originally crashed the ground in here was closer to the consistency of quicksand."

"I'm willing to bet that most of the ship is submerged under the surface then," the Doctor said. "The ground's probably dried and become hard packed under the influence of the sun."

"What about the water?"

"Dunno. Might have drained out into a new network of caves. A lot can happen in nineteen years," he said.

"Now all we have to do is find the entrance."

"Shouldn't be too hard, since I have this," he said, taking the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and scanning around the room. It made a whirring sound that increased in pitch as he waved it around. "There should be a way in down that way," he said, pointing to a rock wall.

"That may be, but unless you have a backhoe in your pocket we're not likely to be able to get in."

"Oh, Sue, one day you'll learn that brute force isn't the only way of dealing with things," he said, approaching the far wall. "Sometimes all it takes is a gentle touch." He used the sonic screwdriver on the wall and a seam appeared in it, sliding open. "Access tube," he said. "It's a flexible docking walkway used on ships that are meant to blend into their surroundings. This one probably burrowed its way up through the solid rock in order to get here, then hid itself behind the rock wall as a disguise."

"There's only one reason to hide on a planet for nineteen years," Sue said. "If you're planning to invade it."

"Well, either that or to study their development over a long period whilst staying incognito, but my experience is that people aren't usually so altruistic."

"Seems like a good instinct to me," she said. "I wouldn't ever trust an alien as far as I could throw their severed tentacally appendages." He smirked. She looked fierce, like she was ready to pull the arms off of some alien scum with her own teeth. "So how long have they walked among us, Jonathan?"

"What makes you think I know?" he said, a picture of mock innocence.

"This seems like just another day at the office to you, which means I'm pretty sure you've dealt with this kind of thing before."

"Oh, once or twice."

"So what now?"

"Now," he said, pressing a button on the inside of the tube, "we see just how far down the rabbit hole we can go." A platform rose up from the depths of the dark tunnel below and he stepped on. "Going down," he said.

Sue stepped onto the platform as well. "Could you press for the basement please?" she asked with a smirk, and he pressed the button again. The platform lurched beneath them and spiraled down into the depths of the ship. A minute later they were stepping out onto the flight deck.

"They're big guys," he said, looking at one of the consoles across the room. It was nearly as tall as he was. "Power's still running, so we should be able to decode the data module if we plug it back into the central computer core," he said.

"This way," she replied. She led him down a corridor, opening a series of doors by waving her hand over the sensors outside them and turning left, then right, to reach her destination. The computer core was a spherical room with a tall column at the center. He plugged the encoder into the slot in the center of the column. A red light came on, shining on the encoder. Then he inserted the cube. The red light went off, and the cube itself began to glow and spin. It rotated faster than the eye could see, eventually becoming a white, glowing sphere.

"That should do it," he said, and he ran the sonic over an access panel on the central column. "Show me the ship's log," he said, and a miniaturized hologram of what was apparently one of the creatures appeared, floating in midair. It was vaguely insectoid in nature, and it spoke in a series of clicks and whistles that the Doctor seemed to undertand.

"You getting any of this?" she asked him after a minute or two of the buzzing.

"Yeah," he said.

"Mind sharing your universal translator with the rest of the class?"

"Sorry," he said, still staring at the hologram through his glasses and tapping his temple. "Built in model."

"I'd take the summary version then."

"They crash landed nineteen years ago," he said. "This ship used to be a warship, but after they made peace with their neighboring planet the fleet was restructured into cargo vessels. Knock out all the internal bulkheads and barracks and you have the makings of a pretty good cargo hauler," he said, sounding impressed. "Still armored heavily enough to be safe from pirates, but roomy enough to comfortably haul some heavy payloads between galaxies."

"Why'd they crash?"

"They ran into something worse than pirates," he said.

"What was that?"

"The time war." She was about to ask, but he kept right on talking, not wanting to go into it. "The crew were civilians, a few of them scientists. They tried to find a way to get the ship back in the air again. They drained the aquifer for the hydrogen fusion drive but there wasn't enough thrust to get them running. That was okay, though, because they came up with something better. Well, arguably, anyway. They'd leave the ship behind and just take a shortcut, of the Einstein-Rosen variety."

"Which means they've all gone back home now?"

He shook his head. "They never managed it. They were close to getting everything they needed, but one of the crew had a change of heart about manipulating people in order to do it, and refused to carry on with the plan. She destroyed the equipment to make sure nobody could continue the experiment. The captain of the vessel had been a member of the imperial military, though, and he was determined to continue on. That's where the log entries stop. But that doesn't answer the most pressing question."

"Which is?"

"What really happened to you nineteen years ago?" he asked, taking off his glasses.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"You knew your way right to the core room when we got here," he said. "You knew exactly which cave had the ship in it, even though it's been camouflaged and obviously unseen by human eyes all these years. And I'm finding it hard to believe that you would have even found your way in here, let alone get out with their computer core, just with a hunting knife and a couple of sharpened sticks."

"I don't want to go into it..." she said.

"I do. And I'm the Doctor, so start talking."

She sighed. "I didn't just come and investigate the ship when it crashed," she said. "I was taken aboard, forcefully, against my will. When I showed up at the edge of the crater, a scout grabbed me by the head and dragged me aboard."

"So you were interrogated?"

"Violated," she said with a sneer. "They hooked me up to their computer to assimilate my language and learn about the planet. I used the connection to figure out how to get out of the ship, and find my way back to the surface."

"You reversed the connection through sheer force of will?"

"The only force of Will is failure," she said quietly, trying to mask the emotion with a snarky dig at Will Schuester.

The Doctor wouldn't let her get away with it. "Sue Sylvester," the Doctor said, and smiled admiringly despite himself. "Surviving at all costs, against the odds. You have a remarkable mind, and it's not just about being able to see through my psychic paper," he told her.

She smirked a smug smirk. "That's how Sue 'Cees it'," she said, making her signature 'C' sign with her right hand.

He smiled back, more warmly this time. "Alright, I have what I was looking for," the Doctor said. "Come on, let's get going." He pressed a few keys to disengage the data unit. It wouldn't eject. He tried again. The unit still wouldn't eject. "Hello, what's going on here?" He said, peering closer at the console. He pressed the tip of the sonic screwdriver against the interface and gave it a good blast. The unit still didn't budge, but a red light near the door started blinking, and the console emitted a faint 'beep beep beep! Beep beep beep!' sound. "Uh-oh," the Doctor said.

"What is it?"

"When you took the core, they tried to track you down and get it back," he said. "And they put safeguards in place to make sure that it wasn't stolen again. Good security policy, really," he said. "Patching your flaws is always good. Well, good for them. Not so good for us."

"Why?"

"Because trying to eject the unit forcibly has initiated the self destruct sequence," he said. He folded his glasses, tucked them in his pocket, and made for the door. "Run!"

"Wait!" she yelled after him, and charged after his retreating form. She lunged forward and grabbed hold of his legs, tackling him and forcing him to the ground.

"Augh!" he said. "What'd you do that for?" At that same moment, the area where his head would have been had she not tackled him exploded into sparks, as molten metal shards flew off the bulkhead.

She pulled him back into the computer control room and closed the door. "The automated defense turrets are engaged," she said. "That's what I had to shut down before I could leave."

"That's bad," he said. "That's very bad, because we only have a few minutes until the entire ship is destroyed."

"Sonic screwdriver?" She asked.

"Deadlock seal," he replied.

"Well, that's an easy fix. Make it _not_ deadlocked!"

"That's theoretically impossible!"

The turrets were now shooting the door from the corridor. They held their backs to the door as it slowly grew warmer.

"That sounds like quitter talk, Jonathan!"

"Forget theoretically, it's also _practically_ impossible!"

"You think this is hard?" She asked him, shouting now to be heard over the din of the barrage of lasers. "Try fixing the timing belt on a charter bus full of teenage girls with only a hair scrunchy and a pair of nylon stockings! Now that's hard!"

"There are some things I've never managed," he said, "Changing a fixed point in time is one. Curing the common cold is another, and answering the age old question of why hot dogs come in packages of eight while buns are in packages of ten has eluded me for centuries now. If we live, I'm going to get right on that. But for today," he said, "I'm willing to hack a system that it should be impossible to hack."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"A deadlock seal can't be broken, that's why it's called a deadlock. But if there are subsystems that aren't attached to the main control center then they'll still be accessible. Little things like heating, lighing, environmental controls, and the like."

"How does that help us?"

"The turrets are heat sensitive, not attached to a visual processor of any kind. They sense targets, instead of seeing them. And it just so happens that there are still a few hundred gallons of hydrogen left in the fuel tanks."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, if I can ignite the engines and reroute the exhaust through the ventilation system..." he pressed a few buttons on the computer console and smiled at the result. "Oh, I'm clever. I'm very clever," he said.

He walked up to the door which was still being shot. "This is going to be the hard part," he said. "Do you trust me?"

"No!"

"Good answer! Allons-y!"

And in one smooth motion, he pressed a button to open the door, grabbed Sue by the arm, and did a forward roll with her out into the hallway. They stood. The turrets kept shooting at the door.

"How..."

"The ambient temperature in here is now the same as your body temperature," he said. "They shoot for the hottest thing they can find, which is the door now that it's mostly molten metal. Anything of equal or lower temperature to the ambient surroundings is safe."

"So we're safe?"

"Safe to run for the exit. There's still the self destruct!" he said. He grabbed her hand. "Come on!"

They ran back down the corridors, Sue opening the doors all the way. Within another minute, they were back on the elevator to the surface. "We still have to clear the cave when we get up there," he said. "Be ready to run." They exited the elevator and ran as fast as their legs would carry them. Within another five minutes, they were back at the mouth of the cave. It was as if they were fighting three times the force of gravity as they struggled to get up and out.

Sue, even in as good condition as she was, put her hands on her thighs and gasped for a few, deep breaths. "How long until it goes up?"

He looked at his watch. "It's been doing so for the last few minutes now," he said.

"I didn't hear anything."

There was a wind that picked up, ever so gently at first, but soon becoming a massive gale. They moved away from the cave and watched as a series of small rocks, dust, leaves, and sticks were sucked down the tunnel as if a giant vacuum cleaner were inside. Then the mouth of the cave itself shuddered and, finally, collapsed.

"There we go," he said. "All done."

"I was expecting the whole countryside to go up," Sue said.

"Oh, you humans. Why do you always think 'self destruct' means an explosion? The ship just generated a very small black hole. It and most of the cave system has just been compressed to about the size of a film canister," he said. "Now come on, we've got to get back to the school and stop the captain."

"I'm giving the investigation to you," she said as they got into the Le Car and drove off. "It seems you have a handle on things, Jonathan."

He smiled. It was the closest she was going to get to a word of respect from the woman. "Call me Doctor," he said. "All my friends do."


	14. Chapter 14

When they arrived back at the school late that evening, Will was waiting in the choir room. He was dressed up in a suit, looking especially nice. The Doctor held the door open for Sue, then followed after her, grinning. He finally knew the plan, and now he could try to stop it.

Will was nothing short of livid, however, when he met them in the hallway. "You two back to gloat?" he asked.

"Will!" the Doctor said, not quite catching on just yet. "How did everyone do at sectionals?"

Will smirked. "Despite your best efforts, it went well."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sue leaked the set list. And what about you, Dr. Smith? Have you been working for her the whole time? What was the plan, offer to help and then pull out at the last second so we'd have to withdraw from the competition?"

"Will, I told you-" the Doctor started, but Will wasn't in any mood to listen.

"Get out of here. Don't let me catch you around here ever again. I will not let you hurt these kids anymore."

"William," Sue said, speaking for the first time since they had returned, "I'll be honest with you. The Doctor has never worked for me, or associated with me. I met him after you did."

"And I'm supposed to, what, trust the person who tried to destroy our chances?"

"You have no proof," she said.

"You were the only other person who had the list!"

"But apart from that, you have no proof."

"I thought even you were better than this," he said.

"Clearly I can't convince you, William. As always, you've made up your mind ahead of time. But look at him," she said, jerking her head towards the Doctor. "Do you really think I'd take him on as a partner in crime? I mean, seriously, he can't even pronounce the word 'yogurt' properly."

"He has an accent..."

"I'm honestly glad to see our rivalry continue," she said. "My days were starting to get boring before I was able to devote myself to your utter and total destruction." She started to walk off, and said without turning around, "See you Monday, William. The game begins anew!"

Will turned back to the Doctor, who stood with a faraway look in his eyes and his hands jammed into his pockets. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You should be. Because the kids won - and that's great. But Emma's wedding was the cost. Ken left her." Before the Doctor could reply, Will was already leaving, shaking his head.

* * *

Quinn found him Sunday around 10:30 in the morning. He was in the cafeteria, dismantling a slushie machine.

"Are you gonna put that back together when you're done?"

"Oh, of course!" he said, still engrossed in what he was doing. "I'm no public menace."

"I was kind of hoping you'd leave it that way. Those things have become the bane of my existence." She knelt down next to him.

"I'm surprised to find you here this early on a Sunday," she said. "Then again, I'm surprised to find myself here. I should be at church right now," she said. "I haven't gone since my parents... since..."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I, uh..." she cleared her throat. "I hope it's alright that I stayed in the TARDIS another night," she said. "I mean, I don't want to outstay my welcome."

"You're welcome to stay as long as I do," he said. "Although I'll probably be off in a couple days, once I get this place sorted."

She nodded. "Will you at least say goodbye to the glee club before you go?"

He shook his head. "Afraid not. I got kicked out."

"You're kidding me!" she said, laughing. "Nobody's ever been kicked out of the glee club before."

"Well you know, that's what I live for. New experiences, doing things nobody's ever done before."

"Well, I'm going to be sorry to see you go. Where _will_ you go, anyway?"

"Wherever the wind takes me," he said. He smiled goofily but it didn't reach his eyes.

"So this is what you do? Show up on alien planets, stay for a couple months, and save everyone?"

"Oh, no, of course not," he said shaking his head vigorously. "Usually only takes me a day or two. Three at the outside."

"I stand corrected."

"A-ha! There we go!" he said. He reached inside the cavity of the machine and pulled out a flexible metal tube about an inch long and the diameter of a tube of toothpaste. He held it up and looked at Quinn through it.

"What's this?"

"The key to the mystery," he said. "Why there're more natural born musicians here than there should ever be."

"'Natural Born'? Hey, we work hard," she said.

"Yeah, you do, but you have a huge amount of musical aptitude to begin with," he said. "You're all pitch perfect; that's unheard of. The McKinley Jazz Ensemble can play most songs by ear. You have to realize that's incredible."

She nodded. "So, what does that mean?"

"You've been drugged," he replied. "The hardest part was figuring out how it was getting in here to begin with. And here it is. Every week this machine is taken apart and cleaned. The whole things gets treatment with detergent and hot water, and this little doodad comes out with water spots."

"So what is it? Something alien? Some weird technology or something?"

"Nah, just a bit of metal. Completely harmless. But the silver polish in the supply closet in the kitchen isn't silver polish at all. It's a polymerized chain of hydrocarbons in an semiorganic suspension."

"So as soon as you pull the lever, you get a dose of the... polymera... polymery..."

"Polymerized hydrocarbons, yeah."

"Is it... safe?" she asked, holding her stomach.

"Oh, yeah, nothing but benefits. It's actually developing your brain a bit."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Then why aren't the football players all singing and dancing too?"

"It's not drinking them that causes the reaction, it's inhaling the vapors from a heated sample."

"Like when you get a noseful hurtled at you at 45 miles per hour?"

"Bingo."

She was quiet for a moment. "So, do you have to make the change?"

"Not in the short term, but this isn't just someone out to make you all musically inclined because they like a good show. There's a reason, and I'm gonna have to stop it."

She nodded. "Eventually the cleaning staff will run out of polish," she said. "And I'm betting what you buy at the store isn't quite the same."

"No, it's not."

She smiled wanly. "All good things must come to an end."

He nodded in agreement. "Everything has its time, and everything ends."

Suddenly her fingernails were insanely interesting.


	15. Chapter 15

He'd been tuning a device cobbled together from an old MP3 player, a microphone, and a camera lens to the local disturbances for nearly a day now, and he was close. Very, very close to getting a result. All the pieces had come into place. He had a rough idea of the plan from the ship's log, he knew where the base of operations was in the basement, he knew how they were planning to accomplish their goals. About the only thing he didn't know was why he couldn't break through into the time vortex with the TARDIS, but he was well on his way to figuring it out. All he had to do now was focus in on the disturbance they were creating, and he'd be able to confront them, stop them, and get out of there. Two months of being exiled was finally going to come to an end.

He walked past the choir room, doing his best not to be seen through either door, while the glee club sang to Will. They were in good hands with him, and even though he was going to miss them he felt confident that Will would be fantastic for all of them.

He walked passed Emma's office, and looked in through the glass. She was packing everything into a banker's box, and the office was almost entirely empty. He walked up and knocked on the door softly.

"Emma Pillsbury," he, said. "Packing up are we?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'm... I resigned. I just can't be here anymore."

"I just wanted to say, I heard about your wedding. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She smiled. "Don't be. Ken and me... it wasn't right. It really wasn't. Maybe you saved me from that."

"I still feel responsible."

"I can't say I'm thrilled with the way things played out but... I'm ready to get a new start," she said.

"Come with me," he said.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll be leaving in a few days too, and I'm planning to do some traveling. If you want a fresh start... I know about the freshest one you can make."

She smiled. "Thanks, but... I'm not really looking to get into anything right now."

"No, nothing like that," he said. "Just friends. Come along as... my companion."

"Back to the UK with you?"

"Well, yeah. Yeah, maybe. Or maybe... elsewhere. Who knows? Maybe another galaxy."

"Wouldn't that be the way to go," she said.

"You could find out."

She shook her head. "Thank you. Really, thank you for the offer. But I kind of need to focus on my own stuff right now."

He nodded. "Understood. Farewell, Emma."

"Farewell, Doctor."

The device suddenly started beeping and buzzing loudly. "Whoops! That's got 'em!" he said. "Sorry, gotta go. I've got... a thing."

On his way out, he saw Will running towards the office. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be going anywhere at all. He didn't have time to think about it.

Only the original members of New Directions, plus Quinn, were left when he burst into the choir room, waving the thing around the room. "Aha! Gotcha!" he exclaimed.

"Got what?" Tina asked.

"Whatever's been manipulating you lot around here," he said. "I've finally got a fix on it and it's not far away at all. It's beneath us. Literally right below our feet right now," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Well, actually, your feet," he said, looking at Artie where he sat at the piano.

"What's he talking about?" Kurt asked Mercedes. "What's 'manipulating us'?" He put the last two words in air quotes and adopted a mock spooky tone.

"The slushies," the Doctor said, as if it were obvious, though it had taken him weeks to work it out himself. "They're dosed with a plethora of chemicals. They've been rewiring your brain chemistry for years now." He said it as if he were describing the process of how to tie a shoe, not brain mutations.

"But you said you couldn't find whoever was responsible before," Quinn said. "What's changed?"

"Nothing. Still no lifesigns at all. But there's a temporal disturbance the size of Canada forming in your basement, and you know the old adage." They stared at him blankly. "C'mon, you know! 'Where there's a temporal disturbance the size of Canada in the basement, there's an alien trying to take over the universe.' Come on!"

And he dashed off before anyone could say anything else.

Nobody moved. "Okay, so Dr. Smith's gone insane," Artie said.

"We should do something," Rachel said.

"What do you want us to do?" Kurt asked. "He's clearly insane!"

"And he might need our help! Besides, can you honestly say after all the weird things that have been happening around here that you don't believe anything is up?"

"Girl, nobody has seen anything weird except you, and no offense but you're crazy," Mercedes said.

"That's not true," Rachel said. "Finn, Quinn, please!"

Finn looked nervous. "I saw it too," he said. "Rachel's not crazy. Well, I mean, she is crazy, but not this time. Not about this."

"What Rachel said a few weeks ago is true," Quinn confirmed, being careful not to divulge too much. The Doctor had asked for her discretion. "She really saw robots, and she really saw Dr. Smith controlling them."

The rest of the club stared, dumbfounded. Rachel was crazy. Finn was kind of a doofus at times. With the exception of lying to her boyfriend about cheating on him, though, Quinn was a straight shooter.

"This can't be... I mean..." Artie stammered.

"You know what?" Quinn said. "You do what you want. That man was kind to me when everyone turned on me, and I'm following him."

"What?" Mercedes exclaimed. "You can't be serious!" But Quinn was already heading for the door, with Finn and Rachel close behind her.

Kurt looked at Mercedes, unsure, but then he shrugged and ran after the rest. "Better to keep the madman in our sights than let him run amok and kill our friends," he said. Mercedes followed him, muttering something about having a bad feeling about this, and Tina and Artie took up the rear.

The Doctor ran for the closet where he'd stashed the TARDIS, backstage in the auditorium, with the original members of New Directions close behind. "Where are we going?" Finn called. "Theatre storage?"

"Yup!"

"Why?"

"To keep you all safe!" He had reached the door and opened it, revealing a wooden blue box nestled inside along with old bits of furniture, racks of costumes, and boxes and boxes of handheld props. The Police Box was by far and away the largest thing in here though, bumping up against everything else and making the room feel especially cramped. Quinn stood aside. She wanted Rachel to be the first to see. The Diva was going to be stunned, and Quinn wouldn't miss it for the world.

"We can't hide in this closet! It's full with that oversized prop in here!" Rachel said. It seemed to catch her notice for the very first time. "What show was that even from?"

The Doctor ignored her, taking out another key and opening the TARDIS. He bounded inside, up to the console, and started making adjustments. Finn and Rachel had stopped at the threshold though, staring dumbfounded into the vast room. Finn was only getting a C in geometry - he could never memorize all his theorems - but he was reasonably certain there was a rule stopping a space from being bigger on the inside.

The rest of the club members were waiting outside, unable to see passed them. "What's going on?" Kurt demanded. "Come on, what could he have in there that's so disturbing? It'd better be dead bodies from the way you're staring."

Finn turned to look at him. "It's... It's.."

"...bigger on the inside!" Rachel finished for him.

Four faces stared at them as if they were insane, but the Doctor appeared behind them. "Oh, just... come in and see for yourselves," he said, opening the second door and ushering everyone inside. They were dumbfounded. Finn and Rachel hadn't been lying. But there was scarcely time to take it all in, because the Doctor said, "Time's running out!"

"Time for what?" Artie asked, grateful that the strange box at least had a ramp.

"The whole basement of this school's locked down in such a way that it makes Fort Knox look like a garden shed," he said. "Deadlock seals that my screwdriver could 't open when I was down there, dampening fields that throw off the scanner, and a temporal disturbance that's growing exponentially. But a controlled entry into the time vortex takes a lot of power, a lot more than you can hide with just a run of the mill cloaking generator. And if they're focusing their efforts now, then maybe I can get down there with the TARDIS." He danced around the console madly, touching controls and dials and switches, but although it groaned spectacularly, the ship failed to move. "No! Still can't move with all this turbulence!"

"I thought you said you'd been to the basement!" Tina said.

"On the north end of the school, yes," the Doctor said. "But the doors to the south end are sealed."

"Elevator?" Kurt suggested.

"Sealed!"

"Even with the key?" Artie asked. There was a sudden silence. The Doctor looked up, his hands halfway through twisting knobs and dials on the console.

"You have a key?"

"Yeah. The elevator's handicapped accessible. Authorized kids get a key to keep everyone from tying it up."

"I could kiss you," the Doctor said, running back out into the storage room. He ran back in. "I am going to kiss you!" He grabbed the back of Artie's head and planted one right on his forehead. "Come on, all! Need a hand!"


	16. Chapter 16

Two minutes later they were all steadying the police box as they wheeled it down the hall, strapped to a dolly. The implications made Finn's head hurt. Even just in that room, there had been enough metal on the floor grates to weigh a ton, easy, but the box still could be hefted and maneuvered like... well, like a wooden box.

"You're actually an alien?" Rachel asked, her voice quiet.

"Yeah."

"With a wooden box for a spaceship?" Tina asked.

"Yep."

"You're gonna take your entire spaceship to the basement in an elevator?" Mercedes asked him, her voice still tinged with disbelief.

"I'll need it to seal the rift. Right now I can't even muster the power to move downstairs, but the rift is extending into the past."

"Meaning?" Tina asked.

"Well... not sure, really, but theoretically the further into the future we go the less of an effect there is, until my ship is ready to do it's stuff."

They wheeled the TARDIS onto the elevator and the Doctor removed the straps from around the middle.

"What do we do now?" Artie asked.

"You run," the Doctor replied.

"No way," Quinn said, crossing her arms. "Artie, don't give him the key," she said forcefully.

"Yes! Do! Do give me the key!" They all stared him down. "It's not safe. You can't come down there with me. Now give me that key."

Artie looked torn, but Quinn put a hand on his shoulder. "This is our school,"' she said. "Our lives."

Rachel stepped forward, "And our town," she supplanted.

"If there's something going on," Finn said, "Then we're going to help deal with it."

"Besides," Kurt said, "If what you said about the slushies is true then we've been manipulated our whole lives. Don't we deserve a chance to see who's been doing that to us?"

The Doctor screwed up his face as if he were half mulling it over, and half about to whine, and then said, "Alright, fine, fine! But I'm warning you, it'll be dangerous."

"Facing danger with a handsome man with an impossible blue box? Sounds like fun," Kurt said.

They filed into the TARDIS - the police box was large enough to fill the whole elevator - and the Doctor reached out, turned the key, and pressed for the basement. This time the elevator did move, a little shakily but getting down just the same. When it arrived in the basement the Doctor took the sonic to the motion sensor, effectively jamming the door open.

The room before them was huge. Apparently it had once been meant for storage, but someone had cleared it out, leaving just a big empty chamber with some kind of device in the center. It was a cylinder about the size of two car batteries stacked atop one another, with what looked like a half of a smartphone attached to the top. Lights blinked on it but its purpose wasn't readily apparent to anyone in the glee club.

The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed to have a very good idea what he was looking at. "Ooh, that's seen better days," he said, putting on his glasses.

"What is it?" Rachel asked.

"A vortex manipulator. Well, a half a one, anyway. Slap one of those on your wrist and you're good to go for a nice walk through the ages. Course it's dangerous as can be, but who can be bothered with that?"

"You said it'd seen better days?"

"Oh yeah. Almost half of it's missing. Which is what the larger part is for. That's a harmonic resonator. It's actually using modulated frequencies to stabilize the vortex manipulator's output and regulate entry into the time vortex. Oh! But you're brilliant, really you are!"

"Who's brilliant?" Finn asked, not seeing anyone.

"Hm? Oh, he is." And he buzzed the sonic screwdriver towards an alcove in the wall at full volume. The air seemed to shimmer, and when it cleared a massive creature that Finn though looked remarkably like something from a Ridley Scott movie appeared.

The assembled students screamed and made for cover. Tina grabbed Artie's chair and wheeled it into the TARDIS, Finn and Rachel ran and ducked behind a wooden crate, and Mercedes, Kurt, and Quinn all pressed themselves up against the wall under some equipment of a more terrestrial origin.

Only the Doctor stood his ground, hands in his pants pockets, staring at the device. "I figured with this thing running I'd finally be able to shut down your dampening field. Only so much power on the grid, after all. Maybe next time you should try a planet with fusion generators," he said, making a mock pouty face.

"You will not interfere," the thing said in a raspy voice. Mercedes, Kurt, and Quinn all looked at each other slowly as if seeking nonverbal confirmation. The question was written over their faces; did you hear English just now? Giant insect men from space spoke English?

"Couldn't help noticing you have a broken vortex manipulator. What's the plan for that?"

"You will leave. You will not interfere."

"Ooh, bossy, aren't you? Don't you think bossy, Finn?" Finn was stunned rigid. "No? How 'bout you, Rachel? Kurt?"

Quinn cleared her throat. "I think so. Definitely bossy."

"Yes, that's what I thought. Bossy. So, big fella... what planet are you from?"

"The planet Koros, in the Sarkuulian Sector. A once proud people who ruled over the-"

"Yes, yes, yes, massive empire, etcetera. I've heard this spiel before. But I have a proposal for you. Special today only offer, no coupon required. I know your ship crash landed here, and that you've been manipulating these young people," he said. "You're interfering with a Level 5 planet. But I'm willing to overlook that, because I know you're stranded, and you want to go home." His voice had lost the mocking, sing-song tone. Now he was warm and sincere. "I know that feeling. I have a ship, and I'll take you home, I promise. But you have to let these people go."

"Home? I have no home!" it roared. "My planet was destroyed, by your people, Time Lord!" The creature spat the name. "A casualty of war. Collateral damage. An entire people caught in the crossfire between you and the Daleks, wiped from existence in the blink of an eye."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, and in that moment he was despairing and pleading and sincere and hopeful all at the same time. "I'm very sorry for what happened, but you can't go back and save them."

"HAAAAAAAGGGHH!" The creature laughed, but it wasn't so much a laugh as a roar. "I will do better than that, Time Lord. I will go back to the beginning of time! I will start this universe again with myself as emperor, and then I will shape life in my own image! I will wipe the Time Lords and the Daleks from existence! I will rule!"

"You can't. I won't let you. My people may be long dead, but I'm still a Time Lord, and species like yours can't have time travel for a reason."

"So you have come to kill me, then? The last of your kind come to exterminate the last of mine?"

He winced at the well-chosen word. "I don't want to. Destroying you is the last thing I want. But if you don't call this off, then that won't stop me from doing whatever I have to do to save these people."

"Save them? I am a victim here... a victim of your endless war!"

The Doctor shook his head. "In every situation there's the aggressor, and there's the victim. There's the person doing right, and the person doing wrong. And it has always been my experience that the aggressors are the ones who are doing wrong. And right now you're the one with the power, and these people are the ones you're going to murder to get your way. They're the victims here, not you. Your victims! Nobody else's, just yours. Whatever happens now is your fault. Call this off."

The Korosis sneered. "How can I call it off? It's already done."

A howling wind started to blow through the basement, and slowly energies started to swirl around in the air above the vortex manipulator. Rachel stared into it, amazed at seeing, of all things, a picture of her past starting back at her. She'd have sworn it was a video recording, of her and the rest of the glee club singing together in the choir room, back when it was just five members. Before Finn joined. It seemed like forever ago. Artie hit a high note in the scene playing out before them and one of seven lights on the device below lit up.

"A paradox," the Doctor said, his face falling. "You're using the past to shape the present, but using the present to alter the past. If you go through with this you'll put a hole in the universe!"

"And then escape safely through the vortex to the dawn of time itself, starting again and shaping the universe in my own image!" Another day appeared before them in the portal over the device - Finn singing in the shower, hair a soapy mess, with Mr. Schuester approaching from the locker room. Finn looked away, embarrassed. But as a long note resonated against the walls of the shower cubicle, another of the seven lights came on.

"They're using musical notes from us singing to power the machine?" Tina asked, stunned. "How convoluted a solution is that?"

"Not powering... Tuning. Quite clever, actually. They knew they could manipulate the vortex with the right frequencies. And unable to make them by themselves, they figured they'd get you lot to do it."

"They couldn't hit those notes themselves?" Artie asked.

"What, with those vocal cords?" the Doctor asked. "Don't be daft. And the closest thing to a Korosis musical instrument is a drum made of the skin of your enemies. So they've tried everything to get to this moment. Lillian Adler came close, but never made it, did she?"

"They weren't always winners," the creature replied.

"Lillian Adler was... him?" Mercedes was shocked.

"Or another of the crew of the crashed ship. Fortunately she, or he, had a change of heart. They all died out one by one I'm sure. Before hand they tried everything to get a better glee club. Even started dosing the slushies with chemicals to boost development of your primary auditory cortex. But it took until now, with Will Schuester and all of you at the helm, to get the ball really rolling. And by that point, there was only him left. The military strategist, the old captain. And he wasn't content to just go home."

By this time six of the lights were illuminated. The image above showed the glee club in red shirts and jeans ready to hit the high note of _Don't Stop Believing_. The Doctor was attacking the device with the sonic screwdriver but to no avail. He looked at the portal as the seventh light lit, watched each member of the club cry out in agony and terror as they were atomized into blue sparkling particles. Their real life counterparts stared in horror through the portal from their hiding places. Then all at once the image faded, and the portal extended backwards seemingly to infinity, becoming a swirling tunnel turning red one way, and blue the other. An amalgam of all seven collected notes droned on in their ears.

The Korosis started to enter the time vortex. "What happens if it gets through?" Rachel asked.

"Life as we know it ends."

"And it needs this exact chord to stay open?"

"No, no, It's a fluctuation of temporal energy through a... sorry, what?"

Rachel didn't listen any more. She reacher her hand out, grabbed as many people as she could, and ran to stand at the base of the device. "Finn! High B! Kurt, G! Mercedes, I need a D, and I'll hit the C."

"What are we..." Finn started.

"On three, a sustained whole note of 'Ah'. Ready?"

The rest of the glee club ran out to her. "Berry, what are you doing?" Quinn asked.

"Creating a sour note!" she said.

"What?"

"Oh, brilliant! The harmonic frequency of this note is forcing the vortex open, so you're going to destabilize the energy matrix by creating a resonant feedback loop along the quantum fault line, altering the flow of energy and collapsing the entry into the time vortex!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"Yes, that is what I just said, thank you very much!" Rachel hollered. "Now come on! Everyone! We need the most discordant note we can muster! 1, 2, 3!"

The wind was howling now and various objects about the room - bits of garbage, newspapers, old tin cans and the like - were being sucked into the portal after the retreating backside of the Korosis. Everyone was screaming now, all at different notes... even the Doctor was bellowing. The portal began to constrict around the Korosis' middle, and for a moment Rachel feared it would be severed in two, but at the last moment as the tunnel of red and blue swirling light collapsed, the remainder of the creature was sucked inside. It's terrified scream of terror echoed through the room for several seconds. Then all was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: there you go! One more alien menace defeated. There's one chapter after this one, so stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion. It's about to get even wibbly-wobblier!
> 
> I also want to take a moment to thank my Beta, who checks my spelling, finds punctuation errors, listens to me bounce ideas off him almost daily, and finds a nice way to say so when the ideas are really, really bad. Thank you, Dan Rydell. To you, sir, with love.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, that's it! I think this is the first time I ever completed a story. Ever. To say I'm excited would be a massive understatement. Mostly I'm really looking forward to hearing what you all think! And if you liked this and want more of the same in the very near future keep an eye on my author's page. The second story in the series is already written and I'll probably start posting it up on the site in a week or two.
> 
> I'm always looking for ways to improve, and to make my Doctor more Doctorey and my Quinn more Quinn-like, so if you have any feedback, either positive or negative, I'm all ears! Otherwise, I hope to see a lot of you for the next installment! Allons-y!

Finn, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, and Rachel stared, dumbfounded, at the alcove the Korosis had occupied only a moment before.

"Where'd it go?"' Finn asked. "Did it make it through?"

"It's gone," the Doctor said. "Absorbed into the Time Vortex when you lot disrupted it's harmonic phase regulator. Good thinking on that, by the way, Rachel. Without any kind of stabilizing effect, anything in there would be cut to ribbons."

"But those things we saw..." Rachel said. "You said the Korosis was trying to go back in time. That was our past we saw, wasn't it, Doctor?"

"Yes. It was." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why're you sorry?" Mercedes asked.

"Because we're... we're dead," Kurt said. "Thats it, isn't it? We're dead."

"No, but," Mercedes said. "I mean, we can't..."

"We saw it happen, Mercedes!"

"Right before our eyes," Artie said.

"I... don't remember it," Tina said. "How can that be? If that was us, if the Korosis changed the past, then... how can we still be here?"

"The Korosis' machine used your harmonic resonance to force open the time vortex from here, but it used your voices from the past to do it. Using the past to shape the future - which is the way it's supposed to work - but then subsequently using the present to alter the past. It's a sort of predestination p-... p-..." The Doctor fumbled with the "p" sound on his lips a few times.

"Paradox?" Quinn offered.

"Pretzel." the Doctor finished. "A big temporal pretzel folding in on itself."

"A pretzel?" she asked. "Thats the highly scientific analogy?"

"Well, a more apt analogy is a möbius strip where any entity on the time stream can loop back in on itself without crossing its own path, but it's not got the same impact. Plus I'm tired of saying 'timey-wimey'."

"You were saying?" Rachel asked, getting annoyed.

"Ah, right! So, the Korosis displaced you all into the time vortex, Poof! Completely atomized. It'll take a minute for the strands to sort themselves out, but eventually..." He trailed off.

"We... we all..." Quinn sputtered, holding her stomach.

"You'll be fine. The Korosis didn't get you - you weren't singing. Just the rest of you."

She turned to face them, making eye contact with each one, then turned back to the Doctor. "You can't let this happen!"

"I can't help them. They've been pushed into the vortex, all their potential energy used to tune the harmonic phase regulator."

Quinn looked at it. "Then reverse it, or turn it off, or..."

"I can't. Won't help. You can't turn off the gas today to stop yesterday's fire. Damage done, it's just their bodies are too stupid to have caught up to the effect. Er, no offense. Unless..." His eye lit up and he got a faraway look. "Unless, unless... Oh yes!"

"You can do it?" Quinn said.

He fixed her with a hard gaze. "There could be... consequences."

She took a deep breath, then nodded. "It's okay. Whatever it takes to save them."

"In that case... they're in the vortex now. But everything in the time vortex wants to flow one way - towards the future. It takes tremendous power to move the other way, to fight your way upstream. That means that those scattered out bits are still there, and they're heading this way."

"Meaning?" Artie prompted.

"Meaning we - meaning you all - have a shot! Come on!" he called, grabbing the Korosis device and running into the TARDIS, where he attached leads from the regulator to the center console and buzzed over everything with the sonic screwdriver. He twisted knobs and pulled levers, and when he was done he pulled one big switch. The column started moving, accompanied by a grinding sound, but the ship didn't shake as if it were moving. Kurt looked out the still-open door. They were still in the basement. "Cause it just so happens you know someone with the power to go against the flow of the rapids in the time stream - Me! And if I can navigate the waters, maybe I can pull a few survivors out! Rachel!" the Doctor called out, smacking the regulator and making it glow an eerie green. "G sharp! I need a G sharp!"

Rachel obliged; she let out a long note, and seconds later something formed in front of her. A blue spectre that formed a human figure. It turned out to be... herself. Blue and transparent but definitely Rachel in a T-shirt and jeans.

"C'mon everyone! Same note!" the Doctor said, but he subtly placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder and squeezed. When she looked up at him he shook his head.

Everyone else was having a similar experience to Rachel. Mirror images of each member of the glee club except Quinn were staring at their counterparts, and as each finished their notes, the blue forms seemed to merge with them. Each found themselves in the red T-shirt and jeans, rather than what they had been wearing before.

"Aha! That's done it! You're ready!"

"For what?" Finn asked.

"You're merged with your past selves that were pulled out of your time streams. Which means I can put you back!" he pulled another few switches and the column started moving again, this time driving the TARDIS back through the vortex.

"I'm lost," Artie said. "What's happening?"

"I'm injecting you back into your own time stream, something that would be against the laws of time if it wasn't just to keep a paradox from forming. But think of this more as... well, replacing you, I suppose. Restoring you with your exact selves." The TARDIS stopped lurching and with a thump, it had stopped moving. "Now, come on you lot. Back out there. Next number's starting up. Because there's a catch to all this."

"What?" Tina asked.

"You have to re-live these last few months over again, exactly as you did the first time. It's got to be as close as possible to the first time through the loop, have you got that?" Everyone nodded. "Good. Because even the slightest changes can ruin this world. You mustn't change a thing so far as you can help it, or it could wound time itself. And make no mistake... if that happens life on Earth perishes. All of it."

"Seems dangerous," Artie said.

"It is. So don't screw up. I'm not saying the world is going to end it you don't have the same breakfast a week from Thursday that you did the first time around, but no using your foreknowledge to alter time. No telling Will not to sleep on the mattress, or stopping Quinn and Puck from getting together that night. No staking out Sue to catch her handing over the set list. Nothing like that at all. Everyone understand?"

Rachel looked at the Doctor. "Why are you doing this? I mean, if this is bending the laws of time... why us? Not that I'm not grateful to be alive but..."

"Because sometimes I get to decide who lives and who dies," the Doctor said, then busied himself with the console, avoiding Rachel's gaze.

"I thought that maybe... maybe we had something," Rachel said to him.

He sighed inwardly. Will's story about Suzie Pepper was still fresh in his mind. He had to say something to her, something to make her understand. He looked right at her, gazing deep into her eyes.

"You know that I'm not really the one you're looking for," he said. "You wouldn't have told Finn about Puck and Quinn otherwise."

She turned away and leaned on the console. "Maybe not, but if I knew, really knew that someone else was carrying a torch for me..."

"I've been thinking, and it all adds up to one thing: you're staying here and going to Broadway where you belong."

"But..."

"Now, you've got to listen to me! You have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up in a Sontaran prison camp. If you pass this opportunity up you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life."

"But what about us?"

"We'll always have _Endless Love_."

She nodded. "Goodbye, Doctor,"

"Goodbye, Rachel." She walked out of the TARDIS.

Kurt sidled up to the Doctor. "Casablanca?"

"MmHm."

"Classic romance. You know Ms. Berry well. A musical would have been better but, well done nonetheless."

He nodded absentmindedly, but he was listening in on Finn and Quinn now. They were sharing a moment by the railing to his left.

Finn looked at Quinn. "This isn't fair," he said.

"I know."

"I'm not sure I can go back to pretending that... you know," he said, pointing at her stomach.

"I'm so sorry I lied to you, Finn."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive you. I don't know if I ever will. And I'm not sure I can play the role over again."

"You have to," the Doctor said. He looked completely serious, all his manic energy gone. "You have to do everything you did the first time, exactly the same, as much as you can. Otherwise, it'll put a hole in the universe. And trust me, you don't wanna see a wound in time get cleaned up." He looked Finn right in the eyes. "Promise me."

Finn swallowed hard, then nodded. "I promise." He held Quinn's hand. "If it's that important, we can do this. Together." She didn't return his smile, and pulled her hand away gently.

The Doctor smiled and walloped him on the back. "Good lad! Now come on, off you go! All of you!" They filed out and assumed positions backstage, ready to jump in seamlessly when the time came.

Quinn was the last one to head down the ramp, and the Doctor called to her. "Uh, Quinn? Have a moment?"

She stopped and turned to face him at the console. Finn turned too, his expression clearly readable - 'You coming?' his eyes asked somewhat impatiently. "Yeah," Quinn said, her voice cracking, because she had a feeling she knew what he was going to say.

"I can't let you go back," the Doctor said.

"What?" Finn said, narrowing his eyes at the Time Lord. "What do you mean she can't come back?"

"Don't you get it Finn?" she asked, tearing up. "The Doctor just said you have to blend in. Nobody can know you're reliving the next few months or it creates a paradox."

"So? If I'm smart enough to do it, you are."

"It's not about that. I'm... I can't blend in like this."

"Like... Oh. Oh no."

He looked right into her eyes as she tried not to weep. "It's OK," she said, putting on a brave face. "Now I don't have to watch my parents kick me out again. I barely got through it the first time."

Finn looked at the Doctor. "But... won't it create problems if she's missing? Gone without a trace?"

"She's not," the Doctor said. "Korosis didn't get her. She's still out there, safe and sound." He inclined his head. Sure enough, up above in the shadows Sue Sylvester's frozen form watched, with Quinn at her side.

"What happens now?" Finn asked.

"You occupy a redundant timeline. Just keep up the act until you get back to this afternoon. Then from there, you go on your merry way. No Korosis, no time paradoxes. Just you living your lives."

Finn nodded. He turned, took a step away, and turned back. "I..."

She shook her head, the tears flowing now. "Don't," she said. "Just don't."

"Will I... ever see you again?"

She nodded at her doppelgänger up in the balcony. "Yeah. In a minute."

He nodded again. "See you in a minute," he said. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn't find the words.

"Yeah. In a minute. Take care of yourself," she said. The Doctor had come up behind her, and he closed the door to the TARDIS. "And... take care of me," she whispered.

The Doctor was back at the console. "Now, just a few quick adjustments, aaaaaaand..." The machine groaned once more, and the Doctor turned on the scanner, watching the view outside.

_For a smile they can share the night, it goes on and on and on and on..._

"Aha! There's the song I've been waiting for! Months I've been waiting!"

_Strangers waiting_

"So now what?"

"Your choice," he said. "I can find you somewhere to put down roots. Somewhere out of the way, nice and quiet."

_Up and down the boulevard, they're shadows, searching in the night._

"Or?"

"Or, you could... well, you could come with me."

_Streetlight people_

"With you?"

"Yes."

"The last Gallifreylian?"

He smiled. "Time Lord."

_Living just to find emotion_

"Doing this kind of thing, day in and day out?"

"Yeah." he smiled a goofy grin. "The whole of time and space, just waiting."

_Hiding_

"In, uh... my condition?"

"Well... we could always take it a bit easy to start out with."

_Somewhere in the night! Working hard to get my fill..._

"What happens to her? I mean, to me? Er..."

_Everybody wants a thrill,_

"She goes on as normal. Same old life, until this afternoon, and then everyone else blends in and it's just... life as usual."

_Payin' anything to roll the dice just one more time._

"So she'll go on with my life. She'll never meet you?"

"No."

_Some will win_

"Can I ever go back?"

"You can't risk crossing your own time stream, not with time as weak and stretched as it is right here."

_Some will lose. Some are born to sing the blues_

She suppressed a sob as best she could, then said, "So. Someplace easy, then."

_Oh the movie never ends it goes on and on and on and on..._

He smiled. "Quinn Fabray. The girl who lost everything. You need a chance to relax. How about some live music?"

_Don't stop believin'. Hold on to that feeling. Streetlight people._

The TARDIS made it's wheezing sound once more and faded away from the back of the auditorium.

_Don't stop..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Quinn will return in The Harvesting Darkness


End file.
